


A Different Breed

by fenfyre (Jace)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Body Horror, Dark Fantasy, Gore, M/M, Science Fiction, Supernatural - Freeform, Survival, Transformation, VLD Horror Bang, Vomit, very minor dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 15:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13837725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jace/pseuds/fenfyre
Summary: Humans are fickle creatures, easy to break and almost as simple to mend. Keith isn’t human. He is not built like them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally the time has come to post this work and I couldn't be more excited!  
> Huge thanks go out to the mods and all the other super cool participants of this event, my wonderful betas and last but not least the incredible [zenthisoror](!!!!!!!!) whose amazing artwork you can find over [here](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/171417548341/fenfyre-132018-vld-horror-bang-art-for-a), [here](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/171417632341/132018-part-2-of-art-for-a-different-breed), [here](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/171417866501/132018-part-3-of-art-for-a-different-breed) and [here](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/171418247961/1032018-part-4-of-vld-horror-bang-art-for-a)! It's been such a pleasure working with you and I'm still completely blown away by the gorgeous, creepy art you created for this fic! Thank you so, so much!

The pod opens with a familiar hissing sound, blue steam escaping and quickly dissolving in the cool air. Behind it Keith’s face is still impassive, eyes closed and chest barely rising with his shallow breaths.  
Lance feels his eyebrows draw together and looks away.

“Are you sure it’s been long enough, princess?”, Shiro asks for what has to be the fourth time. His voice is steady, confident, but Lance knows he’s barely holding it together. How he’s been trying to hide the panic that only grew since they put Keith into the healing pod quintants ago.

None of them know what exactly went down in the fight. None of them but Shiro, who had come stumbling out of that horrendous lab with Keith’s almost lifeless body in his arms.

“It has been too long already”, Allura hums and shakes her head, long hair bouncing softly. “His physical injuries have been healed. I don’t know why the pod didn’t open on it’s own...”  
Coran steps forward, placing a hand on her shoulder as she reaches out and cups Keith’s face, tipping his head back and studying him closely.  
“Don’t worry, princess Allura”, Coran says, calm and assuring. “It is probably just a malfunction of the closing mechanism, I will check all the pods and conduct any repairs as needed. In the meantime...”

Coran turns to face the rest of the crew, hands clasped behind his back as he rises to the tips of his toes. “Paladins, why don’t you take number four to his bedchambers? I’m sure all he needs are an additional few vargas of sleep and he will be good as new!”

“But wasn’t he supposed to wake up as soon as the pod opened?”, Pidge pipes in and leans to the side, trying to get a look at their teammate. Keith is still out cold, completely unfazed and unaware of Allura checking his pulse and temperature like a fussy mother hen.

Lance tries hard to stomp down the heat flaring up in the pit of his stomach at the sight. It only gets worse the longer her hands are on Keith but he swallows the throwaway comment that’s already on the tip of his tongue and lowers his gaze instead.  
This isn’t the time to let his insecurities act up and take away attention from what’s important.

Hunk nods, wringing his meaty hands.  
“Yeah. Yeah I think that’s what happened whenever one of us needed, uh … healing. The hatch opens and we’re back. That … that right there? Doesn’t look good. Uhm, at all.”

“Not every healing process is the same”, Allura explains and finally steps back. She looks calmer than before and that lets Lance breathe, allowing some of the tension to leave his shoulders. “Keith has been injured quite badly but he is stable now. He just needs some more rest.”

Lance steps towards the pod and heaves Keith’s limp arm over his shoulder.  
“Yeah”, he shrugs and smirks at his three other teammates. He can’t take that look lurking in Shiro’s eyes anymore, can’t breathe around his silent guilt. So Lance does what he does best: make shitty jokes.  
“I mean, we’re talking about Keith here, right? He’s probably faking it just to get in a nice nap while we’re busy busting our asses without him.”

They don’t look too convinced but after a moment Hunk joins him and together they lift Keith’s unconscious body out of the healing pod.

“Now let’s get sleeping beauty into bed and have lunch, I’m starving.”

“That’s a plan I can get behind”, Hunk agrees with him but not even the prospect of food can erase the worry from his voice completely.

As they make their way towards the doors and down the corridor, the other two paladins trailing behind them, Pidge pops up next to Lance. She’s grinning.  
“Did you just call him...”

“Nope”, he quickly shuts her down but Hunk backs her up. Because apparently that’s what Hunk does now, ram a knife in his best friend’s back.

“No, no”, he shakes his head, leaning forward to look over at Lance. “I’m pretty sure the words Sleeping Beauty were said.”  
“I’m … how did you even hear that? I mentioned lunch in the same sentence!”, Lance whined.

“I can be a gourmet and a good listener. It’s called multitasking.”

“Oh yeah? Well why don’t you multitask my – ”

“Lance!”, Shiro interrupts him before he can finish the sentence. Maybe that’s for the best. Besides, if Lance is not completely mistaken, he heard a hint of amusement in that warning. Which would mean he is doing his job right.

Neither of them wants to be the one to take off Keith’s white bodysuit so they just put him to bed still wearing it, figuring if he wore it all that time in the pod another few vargas won’t kill him. At least that’s how long Allura said it would take for him to fully recover.  
After they make sure Keith is tucked in comfortably they head for the kitchen. Neither of them notice the twitch to Keith’s fingers or the way his eyebrows pull together as they leave the room.

~

Sometime after lunch, when they’ve all scattered to tend to their personal projects and distract themselves from the lingering worry, Lance finds himself wandering the winding hallways.  
Usually he revels in every moment of free time he can get, using it to relax and recharge, to take care of himself the way he long ago learned he needed to. But at times like these, when the whole castleship is vibrating with expectant tension, he’s way too wired to kick back with a face mask and some soothing music.

So instead Lance wanders, getting himself entirely lost for a while until he notices where his feet are carrying him. Probably have been from the start, without his permission.

He finds Shiro outside of Keith’s room, slumped down against a wall with his face buried in one of his palms.  
Lance frowns, head tipping to the side, but he doesn’t turn around. If Shiro wants to be alone, he’ll tell him. So instead Lance lets his steps grow just a bit louder as he approaches, making sure their leader will hear him and not be startled by his sudden appearance.

“Hey, man…”

Lance puts on a smile when he reaches Shiro and hesitates a moment before he lets himself sink to the ground right next to him, leaning back against the wall.  
Shiro’s hand falls into his lap and he straightens his posture a bit but his sorry attempt to look dignified doesn’t take away the tired slouch to his shoulders or the shadows under his eyes. 

Lance gets it.  
Of course Shiro wants to appear strong, unfazed, keep his image of capable leader. But at the same time he’s oozing guilt and shame, no matter how high he holds his head.  
Lance can’t be the only one to notice.

“How is he?”, Lance asks after a stretch of silence. Shiro takes in a deep breath, head tipping back against the wall and eyes fluttering closed as he sighs, his sorry facade crumbling further with every moment passing between them.  
“I don’t know”, Shiro says finally and there it is, remorse dripping from every word. “I haven’t checked on him yet.”  
Lance frowns, purses his lips, watches the way Shiro wrings his hands in his lap like they’re the only things he has left to hold on to.

Lance lets out a chuckle. It’s a little forced but whatever.  
“Schrödinger’s Keith, huh? As long as we don’t open the box, he’s...”  
“It’s my fault, Lance”, Shiro interrupts him, voice stern and steady when their eyes meet and Lance’s crooked smirk falters. “We should have stayed together during the mission but I let them separate us. Whatever happens to him because of this … it’s on me.”

The empathetic hurt flashing through Lance’s chest won’t get them anywhere so he pushes it away and nods instead.  
He doesn’t know enough about what actually went down on the Galra ship to even try and talk Shiro out of his guilt spiral. But that’s probably something they should save for later, anyway. For when they know more about what’s happening to Keith. If there’s actually anything happening to him at all.  
Lance knows that right now there’s nothing that could calm Shiro’s frantic mind. He knows because, at times, he has a frantic mind as well.

“Want me to check on him for you?”, he offers instead. Moments pass and then Shiro swallows hard and nods.

~

Keith’s breathing is deep and even when Lance enters his bedroom. He has some trouble adjusting to the dimmed lights at first but soon makes out the sleeping form of his teammate on the bed.  
“Uhm, Keith?”, Lance whispers, slowly stepping forward until he’s standing next to the bed, looking down on Keith.

He moved since they put him to bed, rolled from his back to his side, both hands stuffed under his face to cushion his cheek and legs pulled up to curl in on himself.

Lance crouches down next to him, studying Keith’s face closely. He looks tired but peaceful, like he is recovering from a stressful day instead of life-threatening injuries.  
“Hey, buddy”, Lance continues, voice quiet and careful. He doesn’t want to wake Keith too early, not when he still needs some rest.  
“You gave us all a big scare. Especially Shiro. He really worries about you. So … if it’s not too much trouble … could you maybe wake up soon? I … kinda miss your ugly face...”

Keith’s brows twitch at that, his lips parting a little as he sucks in a deep breath.  
“Lance...”, he mumbles but his eyes stay closed, expression relaxing again after a few moments.  
Lance bites his lip and nods slowly, standing back up and reaching out to pull the blanket up to Keith’s shoulders.  
“Yeah”, he whispers back. “Whenever you’re ready, man. We’ll be right outside.”

~

The expectation in Shiro’s eyes is almost too much to bear. Lance sighs before he lets himself sink back to the ground next to his leader.  
“He’s … still out”, he begins slowly, hating the way Shiro seems to crumble under the words. “But he moved and he talked in his sleep. Those are good signs, right?”

Shiro frowns, surprise in his eyes.  
“He talked?”, he asks and Lance hums a little confirmation. “What did he say?”  
“Uhm, you know … nothing, really.” Lance shrugs, his fingertips tingling with the lie. He is not ready for the questions telling the truth might lead them to. “You know the way he mumbles sometimes, I didn’t understand him.”

Shiro doesn’t seem convinced but doesn’t press any further.  
“So … I’m not too worried”, Lance concludes with a casual shrug. “Allura said all his injuries are healed and he just needs to sleep it off, right? He doesn’t seem to be in a coma or something so let’s just … give him some more time?”  
Shiro doesn’t say anything but finally he nods, leaning back against the wall.

“Do you, uhm...”, Lance begins, watching his leader closely. “Do you wanna be alone? Right now?” Shiro blinks, seems to think about it before he shakes his head.  
“No, Lance”, he says, something warm and open in his voice that makes breathing a little easier. “You can stay if you want.”  
With that they both settle in to wait.

~

Lance isn’t sure how long they stay like that, sitting quietly in the hallway together. Shiro doesn’t respond well to the few times Lance tries to start a conversation, tries to fill the silence with easy chatter, so after a while he gives up and accepts it instead, lets himself lose track of time.  
He might not have been lying when he told Shiro he wasn’t worried, he knew very well Keith was tougher than that. But the tension in the air, the guilt Shiro is still breathing between them with every tiny sigh, that starts to get to him after a while, sets him on edge.

It isn’t an easy wait by any means.

By the time Allura and Coran join them Lance has bitten down all but one of his fingernails, his leg bouncing restlessly.

“Oh, I didn’t expect to find you here”, Allura says and waits for them to stand before continuing. “But it’s good you’re keeping an eye on Keith. How is he?”  
Of course she looks at Shiro, he’d been the most concerned, after all. But Lance quickly butts in, trying to spare him the need to explain why he doesn’t know more than Allura or Coran.

“I checked on him earlier”, Lance reports. “He was still asleep so we decided to wait outside. Didn’t wanna disturb him.”  
Allura blinks, then gives a slow nod.  
“That was a good decision. We, well...” Her eyes wander over to Coran and Lance feels his stomach drop. Something is wrong. Very wrong.  
Lance can’t quite put his finger on it but anything that keeps Allura from finishing her sentences is bad news.

Coran clears his throat, clasps his hands behind his back.  
“I couldn’t repair the healing pod”, he admits, head dipping in shame and Lance feels a tug of empathy in his chest before Coran looks up again with an almost casual shrug. “I couldn’t repair it because it’s not broken! Whatever caused the malfunction has disappeared, I couldn’t detect anything during my scans. Which is good news, I think!”

“It is not!”, Allura protests, very decidedly at that. Lance feels inclined to agree with her. “Something went wrong and we don’t know what it was or if it might happen again!”  
She is right. As long as they don’t figure out what exactly had caused the malfunction Lance wouldn’t feel confident stepping into a pod or watching one of his teammates do the same. 

But then again Coran is the expert, he knows more about these things than all of them, even Allura, ever will. If he says everything is fine, well, there is nothing they can do but believe him.

“I agree”, Shiro nods at the princess, exhaustion weighing heavy on his shoulders but voice clear and strong.  
Lance isn’t sure how he still does it, he must not have slept a single night since Keith went under, yet here he stands, trying to act like nothing is wrong.  
“We shouldn’t just write this off. Coran, could you maybe keep an eye on the pods? Schedule maintenance more frequently?”

Coran hesitates for a moment, obviously not happy with how dismissive they are of his opinion, but soon he crumbles to their pleading looks.  
“Yes, of course. We wouldn’t want any more complications.”

“Thank you”, Allura breathes and there is honest relief in her voice. They haven’t solved the problem yet but Lance will sleep better knowing Coran is going to watch out for them.  
“Now that this is taken care of”, Allura continues. “The reason we came here: Keith should be awake by now. Or at least wake up very soon.”

Shiro sucks in a sharp breath and Lance feels his chest clench nervously. This is it. The moment of truth.  
Time to look into the box.

“Would you like to come with me when I examine him?”  
“Yes”, Shiro answers before she even finishes the sentence. He sounds confident but Lance sees the minute tremble to his fingers and nods as well. There’s no way he’s going to let Shiro face this alone. Besides, he also needs to know how Keith is doing.

“Excellent”, Allura nods, then takes a step forward and enters the code into the door panel.

When they step into the room, one after the other, Keith is already awake and sitting up in his bed, slouched casually against the wall with the blanket pooling around his feet and almost slipping to the floor.

Lance only notices the weight that was crushing his chest now that it slowly melts away and lets him breathe again. Deep, steady breaths, like he never tasted air before.  
There’s a similar shift in Shiro’s breathing and for a moment or two Lance feels compelled to give him a big, happy hug. He doesn’t, of course.

Then it occurs to him that Keith must have wiggled halfway out of the white bodysuit sometime between his last visit and now, the smooth fabric bunched up around his waist with his torso exposed.  
The few scars Lance can see are ones he’s already familiar with, ones Keith already wore at the very beginning of their space adventure. Good. The pods should take care of any lasting marks and at least in that department they’d done their job, there was no trace left of the ugly gashes and burns Keith had carried away from the fight.

“Keith, I am so glad you’re awake!”, Allura calls out in obvious relief, making the boy on the bed wince. She steps closer nonetheless, studying him curiously while the rest of them stand back for now.

His eyes are still glossy when he stops staring at the wall and directs them toward the princess instead, but his gaze becomes more awake when he blinks a few times. As if he’s trying to find a way back to them. When he speaks his voice is scratchy and brittle with disuse and he barely manages to raise it above a whisper.  
“What happened?”

Allura clasps both hands in front herself, expression going soft, worried.  
“You don’t remember? You got badly injured during battle.”

Keith frowns, lashes fluttering like he’s trying to dig up the memories, reaching, grasping for them, but they’re elusive and keep escaping him whenever it seems like he might get close. Finally he looks back up at Allura, the frown still etched into his features.  
“There was a battle?”

And there it is again, the weight slowly settling down on Lance’s chest, crushing his lungs together until he can barely breathe.  
This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.  
None of them ever experienced any form of real memory loss, at least not of anything that had happened before they got injured. Keith should at least know they’d been heading out to fight a Galra battleship, shouldn’t he?

Lance takes a deep breath, as deep as he can manage with worry squeezing around his ribs. It will be fine. Allura said every healing process is different, after all. Maybe Keith’s was just especially intense.  
Hell, maybe he hit his head sometime during battle, who knew. There is no need to panic just yet and Lance really needs to get a grip.

When he manages to focus back on the scene in front of him Allura moves to sit on the edge of the bed, careful to keep a respectable distance between Keith and herself.

“We attacked a Galra battleship and freed a lot of prisoners, it was a successful mission but you carried away almost fatal wounds and we had to place you in a healing pod for a long time. There were some … complications. How are you feeling?”

“Complications?”, Keith mumbles, frown deepening as he tilts his head to the side. For a moment Lance expects him to insist that everything is fine but it seems even Keith knows not to play the hero sometimes.  
“I’m … I have this weird … joint pain. Sore muscles. And I feel … really hot? Feverish, maybe...”

Allura looks back towards them, to Coran, who strokes his moustache thoughtfully and then nods once.  
“Probably just a side effect of the long healing process. No need to worry.”

“Can we get another scan on him anyway?”, Shiro asks only a beat after Coran finishes his sentence and Lance knows it’s because the strange side effects are only spiking his worry again.  
He’d hoped they could get a break once Keith woke up but they’d have to wait until they knew for certain there was no lasting damage.

“Yes, yes of course”, Coran agrees quickly under their expectant looks. “We can do it right now, just to make sure. Number four, can you stand?”  
But Keith doesn’t answer. Sometime during the brief conversation his eyes had landed on Lance, his expression softened uncharacteristically.

“Lance”, he breathes and there’s something to his voice, something simmering in the tone, something that’s mirrored in the feverish glint of his eyes. Lance isn’t sure what to make of it but it feels strange. Unfamiliar.  
“You … you were here. Before.”

It takes a moment before Lance can respond, that gaze throwing him off harder than he likes to admit but finally he nods.  
“Yeah, I checked on you. Didn’t think you noticed, you were pretty much unconscious?”

Keith doesn’t give him an answer and instead moves to slide off the bed and put on his bodysuit with slow, almost sluggish movements.  
He steps forward, like he wants to leave for his scan, but comes to a stop in front of Lance instead. There’s a subtle quirk to his lips when he reaches out with one hand, brushing his knuckles against Lance’s cheek, head tipped to the side and eyes still shimmering. 

“Thank you”, he whispers before slowly turning away and leaving the room, Coran following him after a beat.

It is silent for a long while between the remaining three of them, Lance frozen in shock while Allura and Shiro eye him suspiciously. Finally Shiro clears his throat.  
“That was … strange”, he says, looking at Lance like he expects an explanation, anything to make sense of this, but Lance blanks.  
Keith never did something like that before, the … the touching and the thanking him. Especially not in front of an audience.

“I know, right?”, he shrugs but he knows it doesn’t come across as casual at all. “Must’ve hit his head real good. Maybe we should put him back into the pod until he comes back normal.”

“Absolutely not!”, Allura protests, rising to her feet and crossing her arms. So much for joking to lighten up the mood. Lance sighs and accepts his fate in form of a lecture about safety protocols regarding the healing pods.

~

Come dinner Keith seems mostly himself again, back in his own clothes and shovelling food in his face like a man starving.  
The scans came back negative, no injuries or damages to cure. His temperature had gone down, the perpetual flush disappearing from his face and taking the glossy shimmer of his eyes with it. Nothing but a temporary side effect after all. No need to worry, just like Coran said.

The mood in the dining hall is relaxed, their collective anxiety of the past quintants slowly dissolving as they eat together and bring Keith up to speed on what happened during the mission he still can’t remember and the time he was in the healing pod.

“So we saved a bunch of prisoners”, Keith repeats Pidge’s words with a frown. “Where are they now?”  
“Oh, we dropped them off on this planet a few systems over that takes on refugees. More goo?” Hunk doesn’t even wait for a response before he splashes another helping onto Keith’s plate.  
Keith doesn’t protest.

“What was the name … Vald … Vlah…”  
“Vlad’ashor”, Allura corrects quickly, her tongue wrapping expertly around the foreign syllables.  
“Yeah, I’ll never be able to pronounce that. Anyway it looks like this desert planet, nothing but stone and wasteland on the surface but they have these amazing tunnel systems and whole cities underground. And then there’s these deep caves filled with water and bioluminescent plants, really cool. You can swim and dive in them.”  
Keith swallows another spoonful of food goo and nods.

“Sounds cool, wish I could have seen that.” Then he looks at Lance and something in his eyes changes, goes from lax to taut within the moment it takes him to focus. “Did you take a dip?” His tone has a teasing edge, sounds almost flirty if it wasn’t for the fact that this is Keith and they’re currently having dinner with everyone.

Lance barely keeps from choking on his goo.  
He catches sight of Shiro’s confused frown before he flicks his eyes down towards his plate, doesn’t know what to say, how to react, why this confuses him so badly.

But Hunk, bless his huge heart, notices the beat of awkward silence and jumps right back into the conversation.  
“Oh no, we didn’t have time for that. Diplomacy, you know how it is. We got a quick tour but then we had to negotiate with the council, make sure they’d be able to take in all the refugees, talk them into joining the alliance – Allura did all the work there, no surprise – and then it was time to leave again!”

Keith hums and when he speaks again his voice is still strangely velveteen. Lance can feel that gaze.  
“Shame I missed it. We should go back one day.”

Swallowing hard Lance shrugs, wanting to give at least some kind of acknowledgement without reinforcing Keith’s strange way to flirt in plain sight. If that’s even what this is. They’ll have to talk about it later.

“We will, we will!”, Coran butts in, sounding carefree like he doesn’t notice the underlying awkwardness of the moment. Lance thinks he must be aware of it though, with the way he goes off about Vlad’ashor’s capacity to house more refugees and their culturally ingrained hospitality to those in need it almost feels like Coran is trying to diffuse the situation the way Hunk did.

The best thing is that it works.  
They all get sucked into his narration and before Lance knows it Pidge and Shiro are asking further questions and the rest of dinner passes without any incidents.

~

The door has barely closed behind Lance when there’s a curt knock against it. Almost like someone followed him to his room directly after dinner.  
The thought makes Lance frown and he’s not surprised one bit when a moment later Keith enters, not even waiting for an answer.

“Hey”, Lance grumbles, hanging his jacket over the back of a chair. “What do you think you’re...”

His words are cut off when Keith passes the distance between them with a few energetic steps, grabs his cheeks with both hands and pulls Lance into a kiss that’s deep and passionate and nothing at all like the insecure, clumsy fumbling they usually get up to. Before Lance knows it he melts into Keith, into the surprisingly hot kiss, wrapping an arm around the steady waist in front of him to press closer.

When they part they’re both panting, Lance’s breath puffing out against Keith’s slick, warm lips that taste so wonderful all of a sudden.  
Keith swallows, his hands slowly gliding down Lance’s cheeks and neck to lie on his shoulders.

“Sorry”, he mumbles, eyes flicking all across Lance’s face that feels flushed and a little sweaty. “Sorry, that was … but I … wanted to kiss you all day. Since I woke up, I just…”

Lance huffs. There’s still some irritation churning in his stomach but he manages to ignore it for now and cut Keith some slack. Guy just came back from the verge of death, he’s bound to be all over the place. So Lance just shrugs and tugs the other boy over to the bed so they can both sit.  
“’s fine”, he mumbles as they sink down to the edge of the mattress.

Keith immediately goes for another kiss, one hand gliding to Lance’s neck so he can pull him forward and press their lips together, the other hand sliding down to Lance’s chest.

It feels nice. The bold, confident movements, the firm but gentle press of lips against his, the careful nip of teeth as Keith grows more insistent…  
Lance likes being kissed like this, it makes him feel desired, wanted. But there’s things they need to talk about before he can lose himself in this feeling.

So he makes a soft noise in his throat, trying to pull back but finding Keith’s hand in his neck too persistent, holding him close even as Lance wants to slip away.  
He grunts, the noise a displeased protest and this time it’s enough for Keith to let him go, to pull back himself with an annoyed frown.  
“What?”, he glowers and Lance can feel his own irritation flare up again, a hot throbbing in his stomach. He stomps it down, wiggles out of Keith’s loosened hold and scoots aside, not quite out of Keith’s reach but bringing at least some distance between them for now.

“I thought we could … talk first”, Lance begins, his voice calm and careful. If Keith wants to be close to him right now that’s fine, Lance wants that, too. He missed his idiot of a boyfriend and having him back is way more relieving than he’ll ever admit. There’s just some things he needs to ask first, to make sure they’re still on the same page.  
After that he’ll be the last one to turn down a sweet, passionate thank-god-you’re-alive make-out session.

Keith huffs but then he scoots backwards as well, moving to sit cross-legged and making himself comfortable on Lance’s bed. Settling in to talk.  
Good.

“So, uh...” Asking Keith how he feels really shouldn’t be this awkward but Lance still bites his lip, looks down into his lap where he’s squeezing his own fingers.  
He’s never been good at being straightforward with his fears and for some reason the fact that it’s Keith he’s talking to makes admitting that he was – is – worried even harder.  
Compared to this, talking to Shiro earlier had been so easy, a silent understanding of their mutual fear between them, no need to actually voice it.

“How are … things?”

Keith rolls his eyes.

“I’m fine”, he growls, eyes flashing with anger but before Lance can apologize, even though he isn’t sure for what, Keith deflates with a tired huff and a slow shake of his head.

“I mean...” Keith pauses, searches for words. At least Lance isn’t the only one feeling awkward right now and knowing that makes this situation a lot easier to deal with. “I’m good, really. No fever, no pain I’m … good. I just … Allura and Coran asked me all those questions and prodded me all day and I…”  
He pauses again, eyes flitting across the room and tilting his head in a way that almost makes him look shy. Lance wants to hug him.  
“I just wanted to see you and I’m … so tired of people asking me how I feel … sorry.”

The last word sounds tacked on and uncomfortable but Lance will take it. He’d probably feel awful if he’d been through what Keith has just today.  
He’ll cut this short so they can go back to kissing soon.

“Okay”, he hums, scooting a little closer. “Okay, that’s … okay. Just uh, about what happened after you woke up. And just now during dinner, what … what was that?”

Keith seems frozen for a moment, then his head falls forward and he covers his face with a hand.  
Lance can see him blush behind pale fingers. It’s kind of cute.  
“I am … so sorry about that”, Keith mumbles and this time it’s a painfully honest apology, the embarrassment clear in his muffled voice. “I was so dizzy after waking up and then they gave me a ton of weird drugs for the scans, I think I was high during dinner...”

Lance can’t keep a snicker from escaping, not that he tries very hard, earlier awkwardness forgotten as he can revel in Keith’s embarrassment about it.  
“So shit like that won’t happen again?”

“No!” Keith shakes his head insistently, hand falling into his lap as he looks at Lance, cheeks still flushed but expression stern. “I promise, it won’t.”  
“And we’re still keeping this...” Lance gestures between them, cocking and eyebrow. “Between us? I think at least Shiro is pretty suspicious now...”

Keith grunts, an unhappy noise, but then shrugs.  
“It’s no use telling them yet … and I really don’t want that lecture...”  
“Nah man, me neither...”  
They can only imagine the kind of tirade Allura will rain down on them as soon as she finds out they’ve been dating in secret for a while. Of course they can’t be completely sure but both suppose it’s not very responsible or respectable for paladins to date one another.  
Besides, all of them really have bigger problems than each other’s love lives. And sneaking around is kind of fun, now that they’ve gotten used to it.

With a smirk Lance slides closer to Keith, placing both hands on his boyfriend’s knees and leaning in until their noses are brushing.  
“Now, wanna make out?”  
The way Keith’s arms wrap around his back and yank Lance into his lap is answer enough.

~

Lance jerks awake that night, heart racing and thin pyjama shirt drenched with cold sweat, muscles trembling while every instinct from the hairs at his neck bristling upright to the gaping void opening in his stomach screams at him that there’s someone or something in the room with them.

Keith’s body is warm and solid at his side, fast asleep and breathing deeply as Lance slowly, so slowly, way too terrified of making any sudden movements, peers over his shoulder and around the room.  
The faint, blue glow that took Lance ages getting used to paints hovering shadows across the walls and the distant hum of the castleship’s engines breathes life into the darkness until it’s an entity of it’s own, a thing wafting through the air.

Lance draws a shallow, shuddery breath, eyes straining to make out any shape or movement, anything at all that justifies the screeching in the back of his mind that something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something is so very, very wrong!

It takes him way too long to work up the courage to move and then convince his quivering muscles to cooperate but after an eternity of staring into the room and trying to calm his galloping heartbeat Lance slowly reaches behind himself and up to flick on the small light above his bed.

In the split-second it takes the lamp to whirr to life his mind is presenting him with an endless array of exceedingly terrifying possibilities:  
Galra invaders ready to shoot on sight, creatures lurking in the darkness, prepared to devour him and his boyfriend, the other paladins, bleeding and helpless…

But when the dim light finally floods the room there’s nothing. Just his desk with what little clutter he allows on it, the chair he’d slung his clothes over, the wardrobe, the door to his bathroom, slightly ajar. Everything just the way he’d left it before going to bed.

Keith grunts in his sleep and buries his face in the pillows, throwing an arm over Lance’s waist to pull him closer.

Lance settles back down, curling into Keith, but it takes his heartbeat a long time to slow and he doesn’t fall back asleep until it’s almost time to get up again.  
The light stays on the whole night.

~

“I yield”, Lance grits out and taps his free hand against the floor, ready to take yet another blow to his ego and maybe make up an excuse to finish training early. He isn’t sure how much more of this he can take.

“No, you don’t”, Shiro refuses, calm and so very patient. Barely any sign of effort in his voice.  
Lance hates him a little for it.  
“You know how to get out of this, you did it earlier. You can do it again, come on.”

Lance grumbles, tries to wiggle in the firm hold but Shiro doesn’t budge. No matter how much he strains, he’s exhausted, his muscles are burning and he can’t for the life of him remember what the hell he did earlier to escape this grip.

“Think, Lance”, Shiro says and shifts his weight, though without giving Lance any more openings. “I’m holding your wrist. Where’s my other hand? How’s my stance? There’s always a weakness, you just have to find it.”  
It’s clear how much Shiro believes in him and it stings, knowing he’ll disappoint his leader, but Lance tapped out, he can’t see a way out of this hold and he’s too tired to keep looking for one.

Only that Shiro won’t let go, not even when Lance reluctantly drums his fingers against the floor a second time.  
Within moments of tense silence Lance’s vague annoyance warps into rising fear and he struggles, without any finesse, a sharp pain shooting through his shoulder as he tries to free himself by force.

A figure moves at the very edges of his vision, striding towards them with purposeful steps and Lance winces away from it, from whoever has come to see his embarrassing defeat.

“Hey, Shiro.”  
It’s Keith, obviously having paused his spar with Pidge to come and gloat. Boyfriend or not, he’s still an asshole like that.  
Lance can already hear the snide remarks and tries to pull away again to no avail. The fear in his chest warps into a flighty panic that shortens his breath.  
Away, he needs to get away from here, from Shiro, from Keith…

“Just a minute, we’re...”

Before Shiro can finish his sentence a loud smack echoes through the air and he stumbles to the side, finally letting go of Lance who scrambles forward and to his feet.  
As soon as he has brought enough distance between them Lance whips around and finds himself met with the strangest sight. 

Keith’s whole posture screams aggression, his stance wide, knees bent and ready to pounce, fists balled and raised, shoulders pulled up like he’ll throw a punch any second.  
Shiro on the other hand just stares at him, human hand cradling the side of his jaw. That will probably bruise if what Lance thinks that happened actually did happen.

“He said he yields”, Keith spits, his voice laced with venom. “He tapped out twice. Stop. Touching. Him.”

The training deck falls eerily quiet after that, nobody daring to move or say anything as to not provoke Keith even further.  
His body is still vibrating with tension, like he’s daring Shiro to disagree and talk back to him. Like he wants Shiro to try and see who would win that fight.

But Shiro doesn’t disagree or talk back.  
Instead he slowly raises his hands after a long stretch of silence, showing that he has no intentions to attack or even defend himself should Keith decide to pounce after all.

“It was just training.” Shiro’s voice is low and calm, meant to soothe, but Keith still seems to bristle at the sound alone, teeth grinding. “I was trying to help him.”

“Training means he gets to tap out whenever he needs to! You weren’t helping, you were scaring him, he was scared of you!”

“What?”, Lance forces out, followed by a strained laugh. Keith can’t know that, he’s not that perceptive, never has been. “No, I wasn’t! Come on man, not cool. We were just...”

Shiro’s eyes flick over to him, bore deep into his for a second before landing back on Keith.  
“No, Keith is right”, Shiro admits, slow and steady but raising his voice so everyone can hear him. It’s a piece offering.  
“I should have let go and he was right to stop me. I’m sorry, Lance. It won’t happen again.”

“He didn’t have to fucking punch you!”, Pidge shouts, and oh, she’s angry, hands stemmed into her sides and glaring daggers at Keith who doesn’t even seem to care about her protests. Only now does Lance really notice the reaction of his teammates, Hunk’s confusion, Allura’s shock.  
Lance himself feels caught in a limbo between emotions, unable to even process any of this. That Keith had literally punched Shiro, Shiro, to get him off Lance.

“No”, Shiro repeats and he slowly lowers his hands, trying to motivate Keith to do the same. It works in a sense as Keith lowers his hands but keeps them fisted tightly, tension still singing in his muscles.

The side of Shiro’s jaw is already swelling, a shadow spreading across his skin, and he moves it from side to side before continuing to speak.  
“It’s okay, we’re good. Great job everyone! Now finish up and go grab a shower, see you later for the formation exercises.”

There is some more hesitation, Pidge about ready to protest further when Shiro claps loudly and starts shooing them out of the room.

After Hunk pulls Pidge into the hallway Shiro’s gaze finds Lance again and in the split second their eyes meet Lance understands.  
Shiro knows.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s hot. Searing, blazing heat threatening to melt Lance right out of his skin, to boil him alive. It never felt like this, not with Keith, not with anyone.  
But today those firm hands are confident and demanding, roaming over Lance’s exposed chest, squeezing his hips, pushing his thighs apart so Keith can slide between them.

They’re both still mostly dressed, Lance the only one who lost his shirt somewhere along the way and maybe that’s the mistake, maybe he wouldn’t be drenched in sweat if they’d just … get on with it.

Part of him wants that, wants more and closer.  
But there’s another, much more vocal part that’s still quivering at the very idea, that’s scared he’ll be overwhelmed by the intimacy and make a complete fool of himself. It’s that part that makes his fingers tremble when he combs them through Keith’s soft hair and fists his shirt.

Keith groans and deepens the kiss, his tongue quick and clever as it invades Lance’s mouth and Lance can do nothing but open up further and try to move with the slow kiss.

It’s so hot, so hot he can’t think, only grab onto Keith and writhe helplessly, not sure what it is that he wants and how to get it.

They part with a filthy smack, a glistening strand of saliva connecting their lips until it breaks and Keith chuckles, low and amused.

“Fuck, you’re so cute...”, he rumbles and Lance doesn’t know what to make of that, completely thrown off balance by Keith’s sudden pull, his strange confidence and prowess.

“So hot...”, he breathes back and Keith grins, sitting up to casually pull off his shirt and fling it aside.

Now, Lance has seen Keith without his shirt a couple of times but none of those were sexual situations in any way, as they’d mostly happened during or after battle and involved first aid before getting his teammate into a pod.

So this, now, seeing Keith bare, kneeling above him on his own bed and getting a chance to actually appreciate the strong build and lean muscle … Lance hums happily, raising trembling fingers to drag them across the hills and valleys of Keith’s abs.  
His skin is pale but smooth and warm, just a bit sticky with sweat.

Then Keith leans down, slowly, so Lance can let his hands wander to his back, feel the muscles flex there as Keith kisses him again, pressing their bodies together.

Lance whimpers.  
This is even worse, even hotter, but he can’t get enough. His hands roam across every inch of skin Keith has bared for him, sinking deeper into the kisses and touches as Keith squeezes his ribs, his sides, his hips.

After a while they separate again and Keith presses a trail of kisses along his jaw and down his throat instead, nibbling teasingly at Lance’s collarbone before gliding down further.

Peering up at him from under his long lashes Keith closes his flushed lips around one of Lance’s dark nipples, sucking gently at first, making it perk up until he can scrape his teeth against it.  
Lance yelps in surprise.

“H-hey, careful there...”, he stutters and sucks in a sharp breath as Keith looks him straight into the eye and bites into the hardened nub.  
“Shit!”

“Sensitive, huh?”, Keith teases, his hand coming up to play with the other nipple, flicking it before rubbing it gently with his fingertips.  
“That’s cute, I like it...”

Biting his lips Lance watches Keith’s ministrations for another moment or two, torn between wanting more and needing a break as every tiny movement sends burning sparks down his spine and straight to his straining cock.

Finally he manages to place a hand against Keith’s shoulder and push him away.

“Stop, stop...”, he pants, hips wiggling but voice firm and Keith complies easily, dipping lower to continue his trail of kisses.

The feeling of warm lips brushing against his stomach makes Lance giggle and he squirms, legs kicking carelessly. Until he feels Keith’s fingers pop open the button of his pants.

“Hey!”, he forces out, hands slapping Keith’s fingers away as best he can which earns him a smirk.

“What’s wrong?”, Keith purrs, pressing a kiss to the skin dangerously low under his belly button. “Don’t want me to suck you off?”

Lance lets out an embarrassing little noise somewhere between a shriek and a wail, slapping a hand across his own burning face.

“N-no, thank you...”

Even though Lance has to admit the offer does sound interesting, the idea of Keith just pulling down his pants and taking him into his mouth exciting enough to damn near give Lance an aneurysm, something doesn’t feel right. He isn’t ready.  
They never went this far and it’s strange for Keith to make such a dirty offer without even a trace of embarrassment or shame.

Which obviously doesn’t keep him from pushing.

“You sure?”, he grins up at Lance and there’s something glistening in his eyes, something predatory, dangerous. Lance squirms again but it’s not from pleasure this time. “But you’re so hard … always so hard when I touch you...”

With that Keith’s elegant fingers wrap around Lance’s clothed erection and squeeze, making sparks explode across Lance’s vision as he gasps and writhes.  
It feels so good to be touched and the needy little part of him wants to give in and let Keith continue, watch those pretty lips wrap around his dick … but he can’t.

Not when every other instinct screeches in warning at the very idea.

“Stop. Please.” His voice trembles and Lance wants to kick himself for not sounding more authoritative. “I don’t want that yet. We said we’d wait...”

Keith’s smirk falters and he blinks up at Lance once, twice. Then he pulls his hands away as if he’d been burned, sitting back up.

“Yeah”, he mumbles and swallows thickly. “Yeah. S-sure. Let’s just...”

He awkwardly plops down on the bed, wrapping his arms around Lance’s chest and pulling him close.  
Neither of them dares to say anything for a long time. Lance can’t convince the shrieking in his mind to quiet down for almost as long.

  
~

  
When Hunk emerges from the bulky machine he’d been tinkering with for the past half hour he is frowning.

“Weird?”, he asks, the wrench in his hand clattering back into the toolbox as he starts digging for something else. “Weird how? I mean that’s kind of his thing, he’s just a weird guy in general.”

Lance shrugs and hugs his bent leg closer to his chest, chin resting on his knee as he watches his friend work.  
It usually calms him, talking things through while Hunk tinkers with something. The atmosphere in the workshop is calm, relaxing and easy in a way that being with Keith isn’t.

No, Keith is burning and excitement, a constant challenge that Lance wants to rise up to and he loves it. Well, most of the time he does. Lately he hasn’t been loving it as much.

“Yeah, the not getting references or taking everything literally kind of weird. That’s his thing. Not the … randomly punching people who did nothing wrong kind of weird.”

Grabbing a pair of pliers Hunk ducks into the machine again, his voice has a tinny echo when he speaks next.

“You mean that thing with Shiro?”

“Yeah...”

“Isn’t it kinda normal for him to have random tantrums, though? I mean he likes you and he wanted to protect you. It’s kinda cute when you think about it.”

Lance takes a moment to mull the words over, then grunts indecisively.

“Also didn’t he like, apologize that evening?”

Sighing deeply Lance closes his eyes.  
One reason he likes talking to Hunk about everything that’s on his mind is that Hunk can be so very rational. Where Lance gets lost in his own confusions and suspicions Hunk always manages to take a step back and look at the problem from a different angle. He’s thorough like that and usually manages to talk Lance down from whatever frenzy his own thoughts whipped up for him.  
That’s why he’s the only one who knows about him and Keith. That and the fact that Lance just _had_ to tell someone or he’d have exploded by now.

Today the usual relief won’t come and instead the dark, squirmy feeling in his stomach intensifies at Hunk’s effort to calm him down.

Hunk doesn’t believe him.

“It’s … it’s not just that”, Lance tries again, his words slow and unsure as he’s trying to decide if he really wants to go there. But Hunk is his best friend, if there’s anyone he should be able to tell about this it’s him.  
“He’s also kinda … I mean Keith’s getting a little … pushy...”

The scrape of metal on metal quiets down and a moment later Hunk slides into view again, a dark smear of something oily along his cheekbone. He leans against the machine, head cocking to the side.

“Pushy how?”

At last he’s paying attention. Lance lets out a deep breath, then starts squirming as he remembers that he has to tell Hunk now.

“So, uh...”, he begins, uncomfortable but unable to take anything back. “You remember how I said we hadn’t … done anything, yet? Like … sexual?”

There’s surprise in Hunk’s expression.

“Yeah, I’m … not sure how many details I need on that?” It’s said with a trace of laughter but Lance knows he’s only partly joking. Still, they can’t just leave it at that.

“No, listen. He’s getting kinda … demanding? Like, trying to do stuff I’m not okay with and it’s...” Scary. It’s scary, that’s what it is.  
But Lance still has problems admitting that to himself, let alone another person. Even if that other person is his best friend.

A deep frown appears on Hunk’s face and he throws the pliers aside, plopping down in front of Lance instead to give him his full attention.

“What do you mean he’s trying to do stuff? Did he…?”

“No!” Lance shakes his head quickly. “No, he didn’t really _do_ anything. It’s just, the last few times we … you know, he tried to … well, to take it further...”

There’s a storm brewing in Hunk’s eyes as he crosses his arms, muscles flexing.

“Did you tell him to stop?”

“Yeah...”

“Did he stop?” It’s more a demand than a question at this point, Hunk’s voice hard and firm and Lance feels his heartbeat speed up.

“...yeah.”

A moment of silence, then Hunk’s expression softens somewhat but the hard set to his jaw remains and he doesn’t uncross his arms when he speaks again.

“Do you want me to talk to him?”

Lance pauses. Does he?

Hunk might be the sweetest, most kind and soft-hearted teddy bear, but Lance had also personally witnessed other sides of him. Had seen how angry and scary Hunk could get when he felt he needed to protect his friends.

But after taking a while to contemplate the question Lance decides that no, he doesn’t want or need anyone to fight his battles for him. All he needs is someone to help him make sense of all this. Someone to tell him he isn’t going crazy.

Besides, they’re still a team and the last thing he wants is to cause any more friction.

Lance shakes his head.

“Just … talk to me, okay?”

Slowly Hunk uncrosses his arms and leans back onto his hands, but Lance notices the way he has to force himself to relax, to let go of the anger brewing in his eyes until they’re soft and kind again.  
  
“Okay”, Hunk nods back, his voice considerably calmer and more patient. “Let’s think about this, yeah? Can you remember when that started? Him being … more pushy?”

Lance doesn’t even need to think about it. He has every weird observation filed away in a neat little timeline, every single time Keith acted way too aggressive or possessive or demanding, every strange quirk since he came out of that pod.

Of course he can’t hit Hunk with all of that at once so he opts to simply answer the question for now.

“A while after we got him out of the pod. I think, maybe a day or two after he punched Shiro?”

Hunk nods and hums like he’s watching some puzzle pieces fall into place.

“And before he never did anything like that?”

“Never.” Lance shakes his head, thinking back to simpler times when Keith was all clumsy and cute and inexperienced, so touch-starved that the lightest brush of Lance’s fingers against his neck made him purr with delight and every awkward, beautiful kiss had him whimpering.

“Actually I used to be the one who started stuff but since he got injured he’s just...”

“Yeah okay, I get the picture”, Hunk interrupts, sounding urgent but decisive as he nods seriously.

“I got an idea. But first of all you need to know … that none of this is your fault. Keith is the one in the wrong and you should definitely tell him to cut the crap or else I’ll have to have a little conversation with him after all.”

Lance swallows at the subtle growl sneaking back into Hunk’s voice, the sharp flash in his eyes that melts away as quickly as it sparked to life.

“Okay?”

“I mean it, it’s not cool of him to wanna pressure you into stuff and there’s no excuse for it. But I think there’s a reason why he’s doing all that … weird stuff.”

“Oh yeah?”, Lance mumbles, suddenly very interested in is fingers and the scabbed skin around his nailbeds that he just recently started picking again. Hunk gives a deep sigh before he continues.

“Buddy, he almost died. I know it wasn’t really the first time but definitely the worst and, I think that’s more important, the first since you two got together, right?”

“Right”, Lance agrees quickly.  
He knows that, has thought about it at length, but that can’t be everything…  
“I know. I gave him time to get his shit together. But it’s been a while and he’s not getting any better and I … I just don’t know what else to do...”

“No, I don’t think you’ll have to do anything. And I think he does have it together, in a way...” Before Lance can frown and ask what the hell Hunk is talking about his friend continues.

“See, he almost died without doing a whole lot of stuff. Like actually treat you like his boyfriend or doing some other … things. I mean who wants to die a virgin, right?”

There’s a short, awkward laugh tacked onto the sentence that makes Lance bristle for some reason and he hugs his leg closer to his chest.

“So what are you saying, he had some cheesy Carpe Diem revelation?”

Hunk pauses and takes a moment to scratch his head, contemplating.

“You know, that expression is used wrong all the time...”

Lance frowns.

“What?”

“Yeah, I mean it does mean Seize the Day but not in the way most people think. The Romans actually used it to say that a day is short and in order to get anything done you need to work hard now to reach your goals. The actual flipside of that expression is Memento Mori, remember you’re going to die. Which was used to express that in the end all your accomplishments won’t matter when you’re dead and you might as well enjoy yourself while you’re still alive. That’s just kinda morbid so I think most people prefer the Carpe Diem concept … anyway, if you wanna put it like that, Keith actually had a Memento Mori revelation. Quite literally, too...”

Sometime during the explanation Lance feels his frown melt away, Hunk’s calm, steady voice washing over him and managing to mute the nervous, electric hum under his skin just a little.

“So...”, he mumbles when Hunk has finished, eyes flicking up to his friend again who is settled so easily across from him on the floor. “I should just try it because life is short?”

Hunk’s face falls, more quickly than Lance has ever seen, and he lets out a scandalized sound.

“No!”, he cries out, a noise that echoes in the workshop. “I said it’s an explanation, not an excuse! Just something to keep in mind while you talk to him about this.”

Lance chews on his lip, says nothing for a while as he thinks about Hunk’s words. Maybe he’s right. Maybe Keith has been acting this weird because almost dying made him realize a few things, like that he doesn’t want to die a virgin.

Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Something that none of them would ever even want to consider.

When Hunk speaks again his voice is quiet and careful, worried.

“You … will talk to Keith, right?”

“Yes”, Lance rasps without paying attention, way too lost in his own thoughts.

He won’t talk to Keith.

  
~

  
“Good job, everyone!” Shiro’s voice booms across the training deck just when Lance finally figured out how to get away from between Pidge’s crazy strong legs that are still holding him pinned to the ground. “Clean up, get a bit of rest and I’ll see you for the mission briefing before dinner. Oh, and Lance...”

He perks up when they finish untangling and Pidge pulls him to his feet, her small hands sweaty and her face flushed with exertion.  
When he looks over at Shiro the expression he finds is blank but serious.

“...can I talk to you for a minute?”

Pidge snickers.

“What did you fuck up this time?”, she teases and he shrugs, mutters a non-committal “no idea” even though he can guess what this might be about.  
He actually expected something like this and the only thing that surprises him is how long Shiro took to try and talk to him.

“Well, must be bad if he’s giving you a private lecture.” There’s a smidge of worry hidden between the words but the next moment she pats him on the shoulder and grins. “Nice knowing you, I’m getting your stuff.”  
And with that she strolls off, leaving him frowning as he watches her catch up to Hunk and Allura.

“What do you … no? Pidge, I swear to god, if you touch my...” But she doesn’t listen, almost ostentatiously so, as she strikes up a conversation with the two.

Who does listen is Keith. Lance feels his stare before he even sees it directed at him from across the room where he’s standing close to Shiro, a deep frown etched onto his face.  
A shiver runs down Lance’s back and he swallows, wrapping both arms around his chest. Must be the sweat cooling on his skin.  
  
Before he can do anything Shiro turns to Keith to say something Lance can’t understand and then Keith grits his teeth but starts heading towards the exit as well. Not without throwing Lance another long look though.

When the doors finally hiss closed Shiro lets out a soundless sigh and starts jogging over towards Lance, a warm smile appearing on his face.

“Hey, you did great today!”, Shiro smiles and Lance can’t fight the pleasant warmth spreading through him at the honest praise, momentarily drowning his nervousness about the conversation they’ll have in a minute. “You’re getting a lot faster, too. Maybe you should train with the princess next time...”

“Oh come on, as if Allura would be a match for me”, Lance jokes, and even though they both know she would kick his ass into another dimension Shiro humours him and gives a short chuckle.

“Of course not...”

Then the smile slowly fades and Lance swallows. Here they are.

“Listen”, Shiro starts and he sounds firm and serious. “About you and Keith...” Despite everything Lance’s very first instinct is to laugh and shake his head, to say something like “Me and Keith? Oh Shiro, buddy, go get some sleep, that’s ridiculous...”, to deny everything and flee as fast as he can.

But instead he takes a deep breath and nods for Shiro to go on.

“Are you alright?”

Lance blinks. That’s not the lecture he was dreading, that’s not even the firm reprimand he was so sure he’d get he could almost taste it on his tongue. He doesn’t even know how to react to a simple question like that, was prepared for much more and much worse so he can only stutter.

“W-what?”

Shiro hums a soft noise.

“What you two are doing and how open your are with it is your business. I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want the others to know. And personally I think we should grab happiness where we can get it right now, so if you two are happy that’s great.”

Lance can feel his vision blur, that’s how much he didn’t expect the conversation to go in this direction.  
But there’s a softness and warmth to Shiro’s eyes, the tiniest smile creeping onto his lips that says he’s telling the truth, he wants them to be happy. Then his face falls blank again.

“But if you’re not, if something’s not right, you should tell me. Because...” he reaches out at that, places one of his broad hands on Lance’s shoulder and Lance can feel that giddy heat rise again at the touch.

“Allura wants to send you two out together. It makes sense, from a tactical point of view, and I agree with her. But if there’s anything speaking against that, anything you feel might interfere with the mission, we need to know.”

Lance swallows but the tight knot growing in his throat doesn’t go away. For some reason the thought of being alone with Keith on a prolonged mission makes his blood run cold and his skin crawl.

But he can’t tell Shiro that, can he? That he can’t fulfil his duty as a paladin because of some abstract feeling? That he doesn’t want to work with Keith right now because he’s been a little too frisky lately?

That’s ridiculous. Not even Hunk believed him, why should Shiro?

“Lance?” Apparently he was too quiet for too long because now Shiro puts a hand on his other shoulder as well, leans down to look at him with that intense, dark stare of his. “If there’s anything you want to tell me, anything at all...”

Lance almost breaks at that, can already feel the tears itching and burning in his eyes and almost lets them fall, almost tells Shiro everything.

But then the moment passes, the burn goes away and Lance manages to push down that needy thing in his chest that whines for someone to make all of this just go away.  
He’s an adult. He can handle his own problems and Shiro has enough on his plate as is.

So Lance just shakes his head and reaches up to pat one of Shiro’s hands.

“Thanks, man.” He’s actually surprised by how steady his own voice sounds, considering he’s shaking on the inside, nausea rising up as he speaks. “Appreciate the sentiment but … we’re fine. We can do our thing. Go in, be awesome, come out. It’ll be great. So, no need to worry, yeah?”

He can see the doubt clouding Shiro’s eyes and expects to be called out on his lie but instead Shiro just squeezes his shoulders encouragingly and gives a slow nod.

“Okay. If you think of anything else you can come to me. Anytime.”

Another short moment of eye contact and Lance feels like breaking all over again. But luckily Shiro straightens just in time and dismisses him.

The nausea doesn’t go away until the briefing.  
  
  
~

  
“As you can see”, Allura says, zooming in on the solar system in question, “the moon has gathered a debris field in its orbit that will be exceptionally hard to navigate. Large amounts of it consist of explosive waste and even though it has been a while since the battle we have no way of knowing if they’re still active. You should only proceed with the utmost caution.”

Lance frowns, uneasy as he regards the hologram of their objective, Tiye, third moon of Nova Albena, is barely visible through the veil of asteroids and debris surrounding it. He can just make out the jagged, unnatural shape, the deep craters ripped into its surface and the huge mass blown away at the side where the main facility must have been situated ages ago.

He’s not convinced and judging by Hunk’s dark expression at least his best friend is having doubts about this as well.

“We figure Keith should be the pilot on this mission.” Shiro’s words are met with hesitant nods from the team and Lance’s stomach tightens painfully. Pilot. Singular. “The red lion is the most agile, which will make navigating through the debris much easier. Besides, he’s one of our technically most skilled pilots.”

Across the room Keith hums and gives a slow nod.

“I can do that”, he says, sounding calm and confident as he studies the hologram. “There seem to be openings now and then, we just have to time it right. Then I can get us down.”

“And back out again”, Shiro adds.

The pull in his stomach grows worse and before Lance knows it he’s talking, fingers digging into his jacket where he crosses his arms defensively.

“Can’t we just … blow up the debris from a safe distance? You know, that would make it harder to accidentally blow it up from an … un-safe distance. Then we could go down with two lions, make the job a little easier?”

He can _feel_ Shiro’s gaze, intense and sceptical, but he can’t bring himself to meet it and keeps his eyes fixed on the blueish projection of Tiye instead. His cheeks feel a bit warmer than a minute ago.

“I considered that”, Allura hums and Lance feels a tiny spark of hope come to life in his chest but it’s quickly snuffed out again with her next words. “But we can’t risk pushing any of it into the moon’s atmosphere. It might rain down on the ruins and destroy the very intel we’re looking for. Besides, an explosion of that scale might draw unwanted attention. Remember you’ll be behind enemy lines and it is likely that any of the outposts on Nova Albena or even the surrounding moons would see it and get suspicious.”

“That sounds like the kind of thing we’d want to avoid”, Hunk agrees and for just a moment Lance wants to punch him for it.

Then Shiro speaks up again and this time his tone is soft, almost soothing. Like it was earlier when he’d gotten Lance this close to breaking down.

“But you won’t need the lions for the actual mission. You’ll have to scour the ruins by foot to check the remaining buildings for intact computers and since the Galra abandoned the facilities after the battle there shouldn’t be any need for combat.”

No matter how calming Shiro is trying to sound, that does not help Lance. Being stuck on some moon behind Galra lines with no way of getting out of there on his own since he needs to leave his lion behind and no possibility of backup reaching them thanks to the built-in trash shield … well, that’s bound to make him at least a little nervous.

It doesn’t even have to do anything with Keith being his partner on that mission. At least he thinks so. Or hopes.

“So who’s going with him?”, Pidge asks, still sounding a bit sceptical herself, bless her tiny heart.

“I need you and Hunk to do an infiltration a few quadrants over”, Allura explains and zooms out, swiping across the map and turning it until it settles on another, bigger planet. “Additionally to the blueprints we hope to get at Tiye we also need some more recent information on occupied planets at the border of the Galran empire. This outpost should have information on how fortified those planets are and how easy it would be for us to free them. It’s not too heavily guarded but you should still avoid combat.”

“A stealth mission then?”

“Yes, you will have to make use of your lion’s cloaking ability.”

“Sweet.” And with that all the scepticism is gone and Pidge smirks, obviously looking forward to making use of her toy yet again. “Don’t worry, we’ll get that intel for you. Right, Hunk?”

Lance watches Hunk’s slow nod, knowing how his friend doesn’t particularly like stealth missions but will take this one on either way. Because he’s a paladin of Voltron and he’s stepping up to fulfil that duty without a question, no matter that he never even had a choice.

All of them are doing their part and which greater good is there than the freedom of the entire known universe? If there was ever a time for Lance to pull himself together and do his job it’s now.

“Very good”, Allura nods back. “Now as for Tiye, Lance will accompany Keith on that mission. There might still be explosives scattered across the surface and a marksman like him will prove valuable for destroying them from a safe distance since there won’t be time or resources to disarm them.”

Her reasoning is sound. Any other day Lance would grin and brag about how lost they’d be without him and his superior skills but today his throat closes up before he can even get a word out and after a moment or two he finally meets Shiro’s intense gaze.

Shiro knows that something’s wrong, he wouldn’t have talked to Lance earlier if he didn’t have at least a few strong suspicions. He’s known Keith longer than any of them, if there’s anyone on the castleship besides Lance who notices the weird changes in his behaviour lately it would be Shiro.  
But Lance pushed him away when he tried to help and he won’t repeat his offer in front of all of the others, in front of Keith.

What he does though is arch an eyebrow, an oddly elegant movement, before he asks, without taking his eyes off Lance:

“Is that okay with you? I can go instead. Or come with you two.”

From the corners of his eyes Lance notices Pidge perk up with a frown and Hunk tilt his head to the side while Keith crosses his arms slowly, deliberately.

If there was ever a chance for him to pull out of this, to make up some bullshit excuse why Shiro has to take his place or why all three of them should go, this is it. This is his opening and some fluttery, scared part of Lance wants to take it.

But he’s surrounded by his team, all people he values greatly and who would do literally anything to take their rebellion forward.  
He can’t show that kind of weakness.

So Lance shakes his head, summoning up every shred of confidence that is still hiding in his body to force a grin on his lips.

“Nah, come on”, he drawls with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Downloading stuff from old computers on some deserted moon? That’s barely even a two man job. Keith gets us down, I keep him from barging into rooms that might blow up around him, we get what we came for, Keith gets us out. You’d just be in our way.”

Shiro doesn’t believe him, Lance can see it.  
But there’s not much more he can do without pulling the leader card and he apparently wants to spare Lance the humiliation because after another stretch of tense silence Shiro sighs.

“Alright. We’ll upload all the information about the moon and the facilities onto the red lion so you can study it on the way. You’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“What”, Lance grins even though it feels plastered on and is straining his face. “No wormhole service?”  
  
Allura just shakes her head.

“We can’t reasonably make a jump into the quadrant, the risk of the castle ship getting detected is too high. A single lion will draw a lot less attention, hopefully none.”  
  
Lance’s heart stutters nervously. Great. That way possible reinforcements will be even further away.  
Well, he supposes it doesn’t make a lot of difference if they wouldn’t even be able to get to the moon’s surface in the first place. And if it’s actually as easy as Allura made it sound, if the moon is abandoned and all they need to do is download some blueprints … maybe Lance’s worry is completely unnecessary in the first place.  
  
Maybe the nervous squirming in his stomach and the alarm bells in the back of his mind are just him overreacting. A kid could do this mission, nothing can go wrong. Nothing at all.  
  
At least that’s what Lance tells himself, over and over again like a desperate mantra, while the others discuss Hunk and Pidge’s stealth mission.  
  
Nothing can go wrong. Nothing at all. Nothing at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Lance’s armour feels heavy on his shoulders, the chest piece too tight around his ribs, making every breath slow and laboured.  
It doesn’t help that Keith seems particularly gloomy next to him, frowning at the map as he sets course for Tiye.

They haven’t talked since the briefing last night after which Lance excused himself to retire early, telling his team and himself that he’d need to prepare for the mission and get some rest, choosing to ignore the voice hissing and spitting in the back of his mind.

Some time after he’d settled down and found himself utterly unable to sleep there had been a timid knock against the door that Lance opted to ignore as well.  
No matter who it was, Keith or Hunk or Shiro or any of the others, he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone and after a while they went away.

Now, with Keith glowering at his screens, jaw twitching and hands gripping the controls tightly enough to translate the tension in his body to Red’s movements, Lance thinks it was probably his boyfriend wanting to speak to him after all.

The silence stretches between them, sticky and viscous, as they glide through the cold darkness of space, slowly creeping closer towards Nova Albena and its moons.

Lance doesn’t like the thought of them arriving there like this. With this cold, tense distance between them.  
They’re supposed to be a team, to trust each other and work together on this mission. So he takes a slow breath and reaches out, no matter how tightly his armour clenches around his chest.

“Hey man, you okay?”

Keith’s frown deepens as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, not taking his eyes off the screens.  
When no answer comes after a while Lance presses on, palms slowly growing sweaty inside his suit. Disgusting.

“You just seem a little tense, is all. And I’d very much like to arrive on the moon in one piece.”

Keith only huffs and rolls his eyes at that. The lion accelerates with a deep rumble.

“Yeah, don’t you worry about that”, he grumbles. “I’ll get you there and back again just fine.”

That makes Lance give a frustrated huff in turn.

“C’mon, you know me. You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t know.” Keith shrugs before his eyes flick over to Lance, deep and dark, something undoubtedly aggressive lurking in their depths. “Do I?”

Lance doesn’t know what to say, how to react, but before he can figure it out Keith continues with a low growl.

“I could smell him on you.”

Lance feels his eyes grow wide as his heart skips a beat, an irrational fear squirming to life deep in his abdomen. He has no idea what Keith is talking about, only knows that none of it makes any sense.

“Smell…?”

“He touched you, didn’t he? Shiro?”

Lance’s lips work around nothing as his mind frantically tries to puzzle this together. He shakes his head.

“We … we talked. He put a hand on my shoulder, nothing else!”, he stutters, trying to understand how Keith can even know that. He sure didn’t smell it, nobody’s scent is that well.

A shudder runs through the lion as it accelerates even further, engines groaning.

“Hey … hey, can you … not...”

“I told him not to fucking touch you”, Keith spits.

Lance recoils like he’s been hit, the burning anger and aggression in Keith’s words sending trembling shocks of _run, run_ down his spine and into his buckling legs. He hates it.

This isn’t him, he’s not a quivering mess just because someone yells at him.  
But that’s also not Keith. Keith has never been the jealous type. Whatever is between them has grown naturally, easily, without either of them pushing or forcing anything. No hard feelings and especially no being threatened by any of the others.

Keith has always accepted how close Lance is to Hunk, to Pidge. How he’s still crushing on Allura a tiny bit and strives for Shiro’s attention and approval now more than ever.  
It never seemed to bother him as long as he was the one in Lance’s bed at the end of the day.

Seeing him this worked up for no reason at all is strange and worries Lance under all the instincts running haywire.  
He wants to step away and give both of them some space, let Keith cool off and talk about this later. But inside Red there’s nowhere to step away to and during their mission there’s no later he could push the conversation to.

They have to resolve this issue now before they have to start their mission with this nonsense between them.

So Lance sighs and swallows his pride, ignores that none of this is his fault and he hasn’t done anything wrong as he reaches out yet again.

“Nothing happened”, he repeats, trying to sound soft and soothing despite his heavy heartbeat and the ringing in his ears urging him to bolt. “I didn’t think it was a big deal but if it’s that important to you I won’t let him touch me again, alright?”

Carefully stepping forward Lance leans down and lets his head sink to Keith’s shoulder, pushes down the flighty, fluttery fear as he nuzzles his boyfriend’s neck.  
A soothing gesture, a peace offering that worked like a charm every time Lance tried it on Keith before. He can only hope this won’t be the time it fails him.

“You’re the one I wanna be with...”

Moments tick by, Lance’s need to pull back and retreat growing with each passing second until there’s a dull whirring sound as the lion slows down. Keith’s body seems to relax when he flips a few switches on the dashboard.

“I...” Keith lets out a deep sigh that sounds broken, hurt, then wraps his arms around Lance’s waist, pulling him into his lap with surprising strength. “I know...”

The words are muffled as he hides his face in Lance’s chest, looking so small and ashamed Lance can’t do anything but hug him right back and nuzzle his hair.

“I’m sorry. I don’t … I have no idea what’s wrong with me...”

The tone, so lost and confused, is enough to make Lance’s heart ache for his boyfriend.  
All this time he spent wondering and he never even considered Keith might be asking himself the same questions, that he might notice the same strange new quirks and hate himself for his outbursts, his jealousy and aggression.

Lance swallows even though it’s hard around the clump in his throat.

“It’s okay”, he whispers back, a huff of breath escaping him as Keith’s arms squeeze tighter, pulling him so very close. “It’s okay, you’ve … you’ve been through a lot. With the … with the injury and all. I’d be more worried if everything went back to normal after that.”  
Lance doesn’t really feel the humour of the joke, his heart beating way too quickly, but at least Keith grumbles something unintelligible in response before pulling back to look at him.

It seems like he wants to say something but changes his mind, taking a breath and holding it, dark eyes boring into Lance’s, before he decides to go for it after all.

“I love you.”

The three simple words are enough to zap every lingering trace of panic from Lance’s body, quieting his trilling instincts and the warnings blaring in the back of his mind.  
Three words and calm washes over him, if only for a few seconds before the guilt rears its ugly head.

Keith never did anything but treat him with the respect and gentleness he deserves, making him feel safe and wanted and special, so special.

How dare Lance let that stupid panic take over his thoughts and presume the wildest things about his boyfriend?  
It’s his damn job to watch out for Keith and take care of him. Just because the last few weeks have been hard on them doesn’t mean he can pull back. It doesn’t mean he can make Keith deal with everything himself.

“I … that … probably wasn’t the right time”, Keith rasps when Lance doesn’t do anything but blush and stare at him for a long moment. “Sorry, I … I suck at this...”

“No!”, Lance calls, hands flying out to cup his boyfriend’s cheeks before he can hide in Lance’s chest again. He tips Keith’s face back carefully. “No, i-it’s not you, I just...”

Keith’s smile is soft and sad and Lance wants to kiss him until he’s laughing again. Not that either of them had a lot of reasons to laugh lately.

“You don’t have to say it back. I understand.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. He can’t. Not after abandoning Keith like he did. Maybe, when they finish their mission and return to the castle, they can sit down and have that conversation Hunk suggested long ago. Figure out what’s going on together instead of trying to deal with it on their own.   
Maybe after they did their job Lance can finally be the boyfriend Keith deserves.  
  
But until then everything he has to offer is a kiss, slow and sweet and apologetic.  
They part with a soft noise.

“Let’s go kick some ass?”, Lance offers instead and Keith’s resigned smile and tiny nod almost break his heart.  
  
~  
  
The descent to Tiye costs Lance years of his life.

He knows Keith, knows his boyfriend is the better pilot and the red lion swift and agile enough to navigate through the debris, still he isn’t quite comfortable sitting back and putting everything into Keith’s hands, no matter how capable they are.

It makes him feel way too useless and helpless, left to stutter nervous warnings and dig his fingernails into the backrest of the pilot seat every time a huge, dangerous looking boulder or deadly shaped part of what must have once been some metal construction drifts too close for comfort.

By the time they touch down on the surface his knees are weak and his chest tight, breathing quick and shallow as he tries to wipe cold sweat from his neck.

“Alright”, Keith says, shutting off the controls and getting out of his seat. Nothing in his voice or the way he carries himself betrays even a sliver of tension. As if he’s pulling stunts like this every day. Then again … it _is_ Keith, so he probably _does._

“Let’s take a look around.”

As soon as they exit Red she settles down proudly and activates her barrier.  
Lance’s stomach churns nervously, he doesn’t like the sight and shoots her a last, careful glance before moving to follow Keith.

The part of the moon they landed on is still mostly intact, surface here stable enough to touch down and take a look around.  
Even though it’s turned towards the system’s sun, they’re surrounded by gloomy twilight. The debris field blocks most of the sunlight, only now and then shifting enough to let a few rays fall through before the tiny holes close up again and the moon is dipped into eerie shade.

The plants overgrowing the nearby factory ruins must have long since adapted to the conditions, winding around the burnt out buildings in shades of deep blues and purples, giving off a soft, pulsing glow that makes Lance feel dizzy the longer he watches the vines and leaves rustle.

They landed on a clearing surrounded by forest that must have reclaimed the land and swallowed up the former building sites ages ago. The underbrush is dark and still and so very quiet.

“So...”, Lance mumbles as he catches up to Keith, hoping to god they can finish up here fast. He doesn’t like this place one bit. The waist high grass they’re wading through is sharp-bladed and hard, scratching against his armour and the protective suit underneath almost aggressively. Like they’re not welcome here.

“Wanna start over there?” He nods over at the ruins to their left and gets a hum in turn.

“As good as anywhere, I guess”, Keith shrugs, then taps a few buttons on the panel around his wrist and flicks open the map. Their position is marked by a blinking red light and it moves slowly as they get closer to the building.  
“There’s seven other factories in a five mile radius. Let’s hope we don’t have to search all of them.”

Lance agrees with a grumble, his hand instinctively summoning the bayard as they get closer to their first objective.

“You also have a … weird feeling about this?”, he mumbles and glances at Keith who flicks the map off for now and reaches for his own bayard even though he doesn’t activate it yet.

“Yeah”, Keith admits, voice low and careful. “It’s kinda creepy. Let’s finish this quickly and head back.”

“Agreed. I ... wait a second.” Lance comes to a halt, stretches out his arm to make Keith stop as well when his chest collides with it. “I think I saw something.”

The gun in his hands transforms into a sniper rifle without as much as a conscious command and Lance raises it, takes a look through the scope and zooms in.

“Gotcha”, he grins as he finds the small object sticking to the arch of the gate, tiny red light blinking in a sluggish, slightly irregular rhythm.

“Stand back.”   
  
He lets a few moments pass after the command, takes his time lining up the shot, breathes out and then pulls the trigger.  
  
The explosive goes up in a ball of flames, searing through nearby plants and breaking out small chunks of the walls. Only the sturdy foundation survived the rebel attack so Lance guesses whatever is left will be stable enough. However they’ll have to be careful destroying explosives in a building that old.

Keith lets out an amused huff and grins over at him before continuing towards the ruins.

“Good shot”, he comments and Lance feels a proud warmth spread across his cheeks.

“Th-thanks...”, he mumbles before catching up.  
  
~  
  
The control room of the first factory is completely destroyed and when they finally find it in the second one the host computer doesn’t power up.

“God dammit”, Keith curses as he fumbles with the equipment Pidge built for them to jump-start the old hardware. “Why didn’t we take Pidge herself instead of this useless garbage?”  
The device in his hands beeps as if it’s appalled by the insult but he just grunts and yanks its cable free from the partly molten computer.

“’Cause it’s not a job for a hacker”, Lance shrugs. Usually he’d have found the sight of Keith struggling with technology hilarious but with the lingering tension it just makes him more anxious. “Allura said the files should be easily accessible … as soon as we get one of the computers running, that is.”

Keith scoffs and the stores the little device away.

“Shit’s harder than learning to form Voltron. Come on...”

They leave the building on the way they came in, slowly climbing across the debris littering the hallways and ducking under crumbled walls.  
When they get to the partly destroyed staircase Lance goes first. He finds the same handholds and footrests they’d used earlier to scale it, then stands back to watch Keith do the same.

When his partner made it halfway down the crumbling wall the stone he’s resting his foot on gives and Keith loses balance, slips away and before Lance can even so much as yelp in shock everything happens at once.

Keith lets out a curse and activates his jetpack and then a ball of flames explodes through the high staircase, stone shards flying everywhere, concrete walls cracking and trembling dangerously. The boom of the explosion is deafening and the heat searing, even through Lance’s armour, as he stumbles back with a gasp.

Keith’s body is thrown against the opposite wall and drops to the ground with a disgusting crunching sound, utterly limp like a ragdoll.

“Keith!”, Lance shouts and when he reaches his teammate’s body and falls to his knees next to it the flames have already subsided, leaving nothing but a lingering, stifling heat and fresh cracks on the charred walls of the staircase. “Oh fuck, Keith, buddy, don’t do this to me...”

He carefully takes a hold of Keith’s shoulders and rolls him onto his back, resting the head between his thighs and holding it steady while he slowly pries off the helmet with his other hand.  
It’s not easy but he manages.

Some parts of Keith armour are black with soot and there’s a fine fissure that runs all the way down his chest plate, probably from the collision with the wall. It must have been even worse than it looked.

“Hey, Keith...”, Lance mumbles and carefully touches a pink cheek. He can’t tell if it’s flushed or burned and that, of all things, makes him panic. “Fuck, if you survived all the stupid shit you pulled and now die ‘cause of a dumb explosion I swear to god...”

But then Keith coughs, body convulsing, before pale eyelids flutter open and he looks at Lance with a clear spark in his gaze.

“You missed a bomb”, he smirks and Lance almost hits him.

Instead he grimaces and looks away, shame burning in his cheeks.

“I’m sorry … must have been hidden behind the rubble or something...”

Keith coughs again, then sucks in a few, steadying breaths before he pushes himself upright.

“Hey, slowly”, Lance mumbles, doing his best to support his partner as he gets to his feet. “Do you wanna head back to Red?”

Breathing heavily Keith reaches out to press a hand against the wall to keep from swaying. Then he shakes his head.

“I’m good”, he mumbles, but when he tries to stand without support a moment later his balance still seems off. “Let’s just finish this mission already, I can rest later.”

Lance is inclined to disagree but he wants to finish the mission just as badly as Keith does.  
So he doesn’t protest when his teammate bends down to pick up his helmet and stuffs it under his arm, doesn’t even comment on the slight limp to Keith’s gait when they make their way outside and back into the forest to head for the next ruin.

They don’t even make it a third of the way before Keith’s breathing gets more and more laboured, his limp more pronounced until he’s almost stumbling through the underbrush.

But whenever Lance reaches out to help, to steady him or make him slow down, Keith _snarls_ at him.

“I’m fine!”, he growls but he doesn’t sound fine, not even his voice does, rough and ragged as he tries to suck in enough air.   
His feet catch on a fallen branch and he only doesn’t crash to the ground because Lance’s hands shoot out to catch him in time. The helmet clatters to the damp forest ground but Keith’s bleary eyes only follow it’s tumbling movement with an irritated huff.  
This isn’t good, this isn’t good at all.

They need to stop the mission, get Keith back to the castle so he can heal. They can always come back another day.

God, this is all Lance’s … no. No, he can’t dwell on that. Crisis management now, guilt later.  
Grinding his teeth he reaches out to grab the clasp that’s keeping Keith’s chest- and backplate in place. Maybe the crack destabilized the armour and now it’s squeezing Keith in a way it’s not supposed to. They really shouldn’t risk further damage.

“Here, you can barely breathe...”, he mumbles and opens it, carefully prying the armour off while Keith growls at him but doesn’t make a move to stop it.

As soon as the dismantled pieces fall to the ground he sucks in deeper breaths. They’re stuttered and irregular but at least that’s progress.

“Better?” Lance manages to shoot a thin, nervous smile at his partner.   
  
But then Keith lifts his head to look at him, eyes hazy and mouth twisted into something strange and the noise he lets out a second later is anything but human. A deep, deep rumble that makes Lance take a scared step back from the other boy.

The persistent feeling of _wrong, wrong, wrong_ he’d pushed away so vigorously flares back up with a vengeance, the screech bouncing through his mind and making his blood run cold.

“K-Keith…?” It’s barely more than a breath, his voice trembling and stuttering as he watches Keith bend over with a groan that sounds pained and desperate. Something cracks. Lance hopes it was a branch on the ground.

A breathless cry that makes Lance’s heart ache despite the terror spreading through his limbs. He needs to do something, to help, but he doesn’t know how and every instinct is howling at him to run, to run _now_.

Lance stumbles back, trying to bring distance between himself and whatever is happening to Keith, until his foot catches on a root and he topples to the ground, moss and rustling leaves cushioning his fall.  
Trying to scoot backwards he finds himself unable to take his eyes away from his teammate who is falling to his knees now, wheezing with pain and anger.

Keith growls again, a sound that becomes less human the more Lance hears it, and folds in on himself.  
There’s another crack, louder this time, like bones breaking, joints popping out of place, and Lance can _see_ Keith’s spine shifting, elongating and bowing in a way that makes him sick to his stomach.

There’s the creaking noise of armour splintering, chipping away like old paint as Keith’s body expands and bursts the material, legs snapping as his ankle joints shift and rearrange themselves to a structure more akin to a predator than a human.

With the next growl Keith’s head whips around. Round eyes that glow a sickly yellow in the twilight of the woods and are rimmed with dark, bulging veins focus on Lance’s form, helplessly sprawled on the ground, and then Keith opens his mouth to reveal rows of razor sharp fangs dripping with acid.  
A cloud of toxic smoke pours from his lungs, heavy and dense and reeking of sulphur as it wafts to the ground, billowing across leaves and roots and damp earth. Lance imagines everything withering and dying under it’s suffocating weight.

Keith seems to be in too much pain to move, body bending and breaking and rearranging itself, but he manages to throw out his arms towards Lance with a feral grunt, claws ripping deep craters into the earth.

A smooth tail swishes forward, glistening with moisture and cutting through the humid air with ease. It tapers off into a hard, sharp edge that flies way too close to Lance face and he strains backwards with a barely contained whimper.

“H-hey bu-buddy”, Lance stutters, tongue stumbling in his mouth and teeth clattering together with fear shaking in his muscles. “D-don’t … Don’t, don’t d-do that...”

But the sound of his voice only spurs Keith on even more and he slams a wide palm against the soft forest ground, heaving himself up to try and crawl forward, making Lance scuttle away from him with flighty, panicked movements.

Before Keith can reach him, on sheer willpower alone, a ripping sound explodes through the air, wet and organic and absolutely disgusting, followed by a horrid, desperate cry.  
Something explodes from Keith’s back, drenching the surrounding plants and earth in a spray of blood. Some droplets make it far enough to hit Lance’s visor and his neck.

The … thing protruding from between his partner’s shoulder blades is huge and dark, folding and unfolding, rippling through space and shaking off wet globs of tissue that rain to the ground in a filthy splatter of carnage.

Lance can feel bile rise in his throat and barely manages to curl to the side and throw up on a patch of tiny blue flowers instead of his own torso.

He can see them flickering in and out of reality from his peripherals: A pair of bloody, leathery wings protruding from Keith’s deformed back. As soon as Lance is done retching he scrambles to his feet and runs.

His legs are wobbly and unstable and he crashes into the smooth bark of a tree more than once, stumbling across the uneven forest ground, but Lance doesn’t let it deter him, doesn’t stop. Doesn’t look back.

He has the feeling that Keith won’t just sit around quietly once whatever is happening to him finishes and Lance would rather be as far away as possible when his teammate can move again without shrieking in pain.

The lion.  
He has to get to Red, she’ll understand that he’s in danger, she’ll let him pilot her this once. At least that’s what he tells himself as he makes his way through the underbrush, panting and shaking.

Then another thought occurs to him and he sends a ping to the castleship. His team needs to know what happened, maybe they can help. Maybe they can send backup somehow, even though Lance doubts that as soon as the thought enters his mind. Nobody but Keith could navigate a lion to the moon’s surface. Or away from it. A deep, deep pit opens up in his stomach.

Even if he reaches Red, even if she allows him to pilot her, he won’t make it out of here.

A crackle in his earpiece distracts him from the dread creeping through his limbs and slowing him down.

“Lance, everything okay?”

“Wha- … Shiro?”, he pants out, surprised it isn’t Allura or Coran who usually take on base support popping up in the upper right corner of his visor. Willing himself to get it together he speeds up again, jumping over a bush.  
He’s passing the last ruin they checked, the one with the uncooperative host computer, and lets out a strained noise.

“Pidge and Hunk ran into trouble, Allura’s trying to bail them out”, Shiro explains, looking somewhat stressed himself and Lance grits his teeth. At least he’s not the only one having a shit day.

“Are you two...”

“No”, he snaps and flicks the map open, it’s still a long way to the lion but at least the dot representing Keith isn’t moving. Yet. He adjusts his course slightly. “We’re fucked. Keith, he’s … I don’t even fucking know … he’s … shit...”

“It’s alright Lance, everything’s gonna be fine”, Shiro assures, voice soft and calm. He has no idea how wrong he is.  
Lance lets out a hysterical laugh.  
“Take a deep breath and tell me what you’re dealing with.”

“What I’m fucki – ”, he pants, gasping through the stitch in his side. Then he has an idea. His fingers fly over the panel on his wrist. “I’ll transmit … a video. Look.” There’s no way he can explain what he just witnessed, isn’t sure the right words even exist to describe the whole, utterly disturbing truth.

What he can do though is show Shiro exactly what went down and with a final press of his fingers the video of his helmet camera is sent.

It takes a few seconds but then he can hear the replay of the earlier events as Shiro watches the video, Keith’s growling and snarling, the ugly cracking sounds, slightly distorted over the connection.

“Oh my god...”, Shiro breathes, the same horror tingeing his words and flicking over his face that’s coiling in Lance’s abdomen.  
“That’s … Coran! Coran, I need you over here!”

A pause, footsteps, the disgusting noise of skin and muscle ripping apart.

“Oh dear, is that...”, Coran mumbles as he pops into view besides Shiro, sounding just as shocked.

“Keith”, Shiro agrees quietly.

“Can anyone tell me what the fuck that is?!” The words are a desperate shriek but Lance can’t control his voice at the moment, can barely command his burning thighs to keep him moving as he squeezes between two trees and checks his course once more.  
He’s halfway to the first factory and just beyond there’s Red. He has to at least try.

“I will … check”, Coran says and Lance can hear the effort he puts into sounding calm and assuring. “You make sure to get yourself out of there, you hear me, Lance?”

“No shit”, he growls back. “On my way!”

Coran disappears from the screen and only Shiro remains, sending his gaze downwards as he types something.

“Okay”, he mumbles after a second or two. Lance can barely hear it over his own heavy breathing. “I got your location. Are you heading towards the lion?”   
There’s something in his voice, unease and doubt, but Lance doesn’t need to be reminded of Red’s stubborn nature.  
He already knows it’s a long shot, too bad it’s still his best one.

“Yeah...”

In the distance he can see the crumbling ruins between the trees. Not too far now. He can make it.

“You might want to hurry”, Shiro frowns, voice tense as he pulls open a few more screens. “Keith is moving.”

“Fuck!” He’s distracted for all but a second, his toes catch on a branch and he stumbles forward with a yelp, barely finding balance again before toppling to the ground.

“It’s not far, you can do it. You have a good headstart.” It doesn’t sound like Shiro quite believes it himself and Lance balls his hands into fists, lungs heaving as he opens the map.  
The dot representing his teammate moves way too quickly. He speeds up a little more.

Another screen opens in the upper left corner, it shows Coran’s face that’s tilted away slightly as he types furiously.

“I can’t access Keith’s vitals with the state his armour is in”, he explains, bushy brows drawn together. “But, considering earlier data … there seem to be some anomalies … in his genetic sequence.”

“What?!”, Lance spits, almost tripping again as his eyes flick up to the Altean. “Why didn’t … why didn’t we … notice that sooner?”

“It does not appear to be a recent change”, Coran explains just as Lance reaches the outer edges of the ruins and makes his way along the crumbled buildings. “We recorded all of your genetic information as a reference for the healing pods. But usually we don’t decode it manually, the machines are programmed to do that on their own.”

Shiro butts in with a grumble.

“And that means?”

“We never compared your codes directly so we didn’t notice that Keith’s been different from the start. There’s whole sequences that seem … alien.”

“Alien? Alien how?”, Lance spits and skids around a corner, throwing another glance at the map where Keith’s dot is closing in on him faster and faster.

“Foreign nucleotides that shouldn’t appear in the genetic code of a human or Galra. Apparently they’ve been isolated most his life and got activated only recently...”

“Recently as in…”

“Around the time of the battle that left him out of commission, most likely.”

Lance can see the clearing now, Red still resting majestically with the barrier activated around her. His legs feel like they want to give out under him but he only needs to go a little further.  
The red dot slowly catching up to him is an awesome motivator though.

“Is that why the pod didn’t open?”, Shiro asks, sounding like he’s deep in thought. “It didn’t have a protocol to deal with the foreign changes in his DNA?”

“I think it … it rather tried to rebuild him according to the activated sequences...”  
  
There’s a long beat of silence as that thought sinks in, Lance’s breath loud and heavy, starting to fog up the visor. He opens it halfway, gratefully sucking in the humid and strangely musty forest air.

“Wait!”, he finally wheezes. “If Keith’s not human … what … what is he?”

A pause, Coran typing quickly, his face bathed in the blue glow of his monitors.

“Well, there’s the Galran parts of the sequence, we knew about those … but...”

Shiro makes a noise and Lance curses, wading through the sharp grass and not even noticing the uncomfortable rasp against his armour.

“Galras don’t have wings, Coran!”

“They don’t. There’s other sequences that I … I can’t decipher all of this right now. I’ll have to feed this into a program to decode it completely.”

Lance let’s out a grateful sob as he reaches Red, hands coming up to slap against the barrier.

“Come on, girl”, he pants, legs shaking and chest heaving as he gulps in air. “Please let me in. Please.”

Shiro and Coran are silent as they watch him plead with the lion. His stomach is twisting and turning the longer there’s no reaction from her, voice pitching higher.

“Your pilot’s fucked up, pretty sure he’ll fucking gut me if he gets the chance so … please. I need your help, Red...” Still nothing. Lance can feel an itch in his nose and the burn of helpless tears in the corners of his eyes.

“I promise”, he begins again, voice sounding wet and desperate. “I p-promise we’ll come back for him. We’re not … we’re not abandoning him, but … but we need a plan. I c-can’t … I can’t do this alone, I … I need my team. Please. Please save me, Red. Please, I need...”

Lance lets out a frustrated sound, then sucks in a deep breath but before he can continue his pathetic begging he notices something that makes the tiny hairs on his neck stand on end.  
There’s a coppery tang to the air he gulps down, a lingering note of sulphur and acid. Lance swallows, his lower lip trembling.  
  
“ Lance?”, Shiro asks, staring at him from the corner of his visor but Lance only gives a minute shake of his head, eyes sliding closed as he sends his first prayer in a long, long time.  
“Lance, what is happening?”

His whole body rigid with fear Lance starts turning around and bats his eyes open again.


	4. Chapter 4

The creature ducking not far from him in the high grass barely resembles his team mate anymore. Keith’s body has been warped completely out of proportion, his limbs long and slim as he crouches on the ground, more predator than human with his powerful hind legs and minute, feline movements.   
From this angle Lance can’t really see the face hiding behind the sharp blades of grass, the large, pale eyes and occasional glint of fangs everything he catches.  
  
Behind Keith’s crouched form there’s the tail with it’s razor edge, flicking and swishing around with quiet hissing sounds. Occasionally cutting through the blades of grass like they’re nothing.

And then there are the wings. 

They’re massive, Lance supposes, phasing between layers of reality as they seem to. They’re going from curled up tight against Keith’s back to spanning open wide to reaching far up into the sky in a matter of split-seconds, sometimes disappearing from view for a few frantic heartbeats before shuddering into existence again, doubling and tripling before folding in on themselves.

The sight alone is enough to make Lance feel sick, guts twisting and convulsing as his stomach churns. Unreal.   
Unholy.

For a few, nervous heartbeats they’re both frozen in time, staring each other down. Keith’s body is swaying, rocking in graceful motions while his eyes stay trained on Lance’s rigid form.  
The way he’s holding his breath makes Lance’s lungs burn, not even daring the slightest move while the terrified tension rises, the fear freezing his muscles, numbing his whole body and flicking off his mind.  
  
Somewhere at his peripherals he’s aware of movement but categorizes it as negligible without a second thought, as he does with the voice humming across the com. He couldn’t make out the words even if he wanted to, not through the white noise ringing in his ears, getting louder with each passing second.  
  
While his whole being is still focused in on his team mate the naked panic paralyzing him swells and grows even further until it makes his muscles itch and screams at his most basic, most animalistic instincts. the ones it had appealed to earlier when Lance witnessed the transformation of his boyfriend into _this._  
  
_Run_ , the panic screams, _Run Run Run_.   
And Lance can’t think, can’t consider the suggestion calmly. His once frozen body listens and obeys but before he can even whirl around there’s a deafening snarl and the next second a heavy, strong body pounces and shoves him to the ground.

The impact knocks the breath out of him, sharp blades of grass cutting into the unprotected skin of his cheeks and throat, but Lance doesn’t even feel it. The only thing he really feels is the void swirling and expanding in the pit of his stomach, the weight pinning him down and the flighty panic trying to fight all of it.

He’s dizzy, his eyes swimming and struggling to focus but when they do seconds later Lance desperately wishes his blurry vision back.

Anything to make this unseen.

Keith’s face, or rather what’s left of it, is nothing but a grotesque distortion, warped and twisted into something unreal and horrifying.   
His eyes are wide and round and so pale, bulging out of the sockets as he growls, smoke wafting from between teeth that are too sharp and too many and reach way too far into the back of his throat.

Lance can see just how far when Keith’s jaw unhinges and drops with a sickening crack and then his partner  _ screeches  _ an unholy noise into his face, the stench of sulphur and rot making him want to throw up all over again.

Lance’s throat closes up, won’t even let him breathe when Keith’s sharp claws dig into his shoulders, effortlessly slice through the protective layer of his undersuit to cut deep into his skin.   
He wheezes a sound that’s more panic than pain, he can’t really feel it right now. But it will come, he knows it will. Just like he knows that he might not live long enough to feel it after all.

“ Kei – “, he tries to force out, chokes on the putrid smell of death and then, suddenly, Keith inclines his head, dips down to lower his maw and Lance has never been so sure that he’s going to die.   
Keith will rip out his throat, spray his blood across this clearing, tear him to tiny pieces and scatter them around Red’s uncaring feet.

He can see it. His pathetic fate. Playing across the mop of Keith’s blood soaked hair, the shivering wings, the tiny pieces of pale blue sky peeking through the floating debris high above.

But the bite never comes, the fangs never sever muscles and tendons.   
Instead Keith huffs hot, acidic breaths against his collarbone, the damp tip of his nose coming to rub along Lance’s throat.

Lance twitches and Keith’s clawed hands slam his shoulders back into the ground with a deep snarl.   
Alright. No moving then. Just lying. And waiting. For certain death.

He tries to swallow but his throat still isn’t cooperating. Instead he feels the hairs on the back of his neck and along his arms prickle upright when Keith pants against his skin and  _ sniffs _ .

“F-fuck”, he stutters, voice high pitched and thin, fear weighing down his limbs and keeping him perfectly still while Keith moves around to the other side of his neck.

Another deep, deep inhale before Keith snorts against his skin.   
It’s almost like he’s scenting Lance. Or maybe he’s … recognizing him?

Whatever the reason for this strange behaviour, it’s better than getting torn to shreds. Or at least Lance supposes it is.

Until Keith pants against his throat, hot and acidic, and moves to lick a long stripe all the way up to his jaw. It’s too slick, the saliva burning and itching and Lance can’t do anything but whimper.

“ Keith...” It’s barely more than a wavering breath that earns him a low, rumbling grunt as Keith’s many, many teeth graze the unprotected part of his neck. A warning? 

Lance doesn’t have the capacity to think about it right now.

“It’s … it’s me. Lance? You d-don’t wanna hurt me...”

A huff, teeth digging into his skin now, ripping right through the high collar of the dark protective suit.   
But it’s not an uncontrolled movement. Whatever Keith is, he still knows restraint. For whatever reason.

“ We’re a t-team. Let … let me help, let us...”

He trembles, feels the slide of hot blood down his neck, the searing burn of alien spit in the wound. His voice is pitching higher and higher as he keeps rambling, unable to stop doing the one thing he still finds himself able to.

“I … I talked to … to Shiro and Coran. Re-remember them? They’re … they wanna h-help, They’re looking f-f-f...”

With a sudden jerk of his head Keith pulls back to rip pieces of skin and muscle from Lance’s neck. A breathy scream echoes across the clearing and Lance notes with a few seconds of delay that the voice belonged to him.   
He can definitely feel the pain now, the blood gushing from the open wound, but it seems like Keith missed the jugular, the bite too low. On purpose?

Ironically it’s the pain that wakes him up and gives him back control, lets him feel his limbs and carefully move his fingers again.   
Without being prompted the bayard materializes in his right hand that’s splayed off to the side, awkwardly crooked and throbbing but not broken.

Lance feels the smooth material through his gloves, fingers gripping the handle. It’s not transformed yet, still in it’s simple, unassuming shape. But he knows that can change on his slightest whim, as soon as he makes the decision.

The decision to…

Keith’s wings spread wide, their impressive span shutting out what little light there is and casting long, dark shadows over them both as they manifest for a few long, shuddering moments.

Keith’s face is dripping with thick, dark blood that’s sliding down his pale chin and dripping onto Lance’s chest plate in a quiet patter.   
Chunks of skin and flesh are stuck between sharp teeth and Lance can feel another wave of nausea crash over him when he realizes this is _his_ skin and flesh, ripped right out of his neck where those teeth left a gaping wound that’s oozing blood into his torn suit.

The dizziness is slowly returning as he stares at the grotesque remnants of his lover’s face.

A long, thick tongue swipes out across the rows and rows of deep red fangs, gathering up blood with an unnatural dexterity that makes Lance’s skin crawl.   
It dislodges a chunk of what looks like muscle that drops, wet and heavy, into the pool of blood on Lance’s chest.

Lance whimpers.

Keith shakes his flickering wings, ducks down and growls a rough, feral sound, fine drops of spit and blood flying against Lance’s visor, against his chin and quivering lips. He shouldn’t have opened the visor.

Then Keith wiggles, ducks down to hover over Lance, his tail swishing and flicking while his bulging, blood-shot eyes focus in on Lance’s frozen face. Like a monstrous cat ready to pounce.

Time slows down.

Lance can see the first ripple announcing movement in the muscles of Keith’s shoulders and arms that still keep him pinned down with those claws digging into his flesh.   
Keith’s eyes open even further as his pads dig into the earth next to Lance’s helplessly splayed legs and powerful thigh muscles send him forward, his head dipping down, down again, to Lance’s unprotected throat.

He’s going to die this time.   
Whatever held Keith back before it won’t save him again.

Before Lance can think beyond the dark epiphany, before he can decide if he wants to fight or if he already lost back in the woods when Keith fell to his knees groaning in pain, the bayard shifts in his hand and turns into the rifle.

It seems like there is some part of him that already made the decision for him, no matter if the rest of his body still needs time to catch up.

He swallows, grinds his teeth, watches Keith come closer and closer and closer, so unnaturally slow.

There are tears burning in the corners of his eyes, blurring the edges of his vision but the image of Keith’s face stays sharp, and then his arms move without so much as a command.

He rams the side of his rifle against Keith’s collarbone, almost halting the descent as he throws his body into the defence.   
Grunting and gasping he’s struggling to hold against the strength in the new, grotesque body.

Keith snarls, powerful jaws snapping shut right in front of the visor.   
Rocking his body forward with brute strength he pulls the claws of one mangled hand from Lance’s shoulder and slashes them across the unprotected part of Lance’s face, opening up three clean, hot lines from cheekbone to quivering lips.   
  
Warm blood starts gushing from the fresh cuts. The pain hits, makes Lance cry out.  
But he can’t stop fighting, his body strung too tightly to give up now and so he kicks up his legs and twists his hips just enough to slam both heels into Keith’s knee.  
  
The sudden impact jostles his team mate’s body, throwing him off balance just as he sets up for another strike with those deadly claws and the single pause is enough for Lance to ready the rifle.  
  
As he lines up his shot he lets out a breath that feels way, way too long, an eternity curling and dissolving between them.   
There’s nothing but wild rage in Keith’s huge, pale eyes as Lance aims for his chest, tip of the gun almost brushing against the torn remnants of the black suit. Lips curled back to expose his bloody fangs, nostrils flaring.  
  
The tears spill over when Lance pulls the trigger and the shot goes off with a terribly familiar, high-pitched noise.  
An agonized wail, a shudder going through the powerful body braced above him. The smell of burnt flesh.   
  
Lance knows what the blast of his bayard can do to targets if they get too close, has seen it on a number of training bots and sentries before. Can imagine it all too vividly, the smoldering hole blown straight through Keith’s torso, right where his heart was supposed to be.  
The strong pattern of its song forced to a stop.  
  
There’s more blood dripping onto his chest plate, red splatters and dark globs of tissue as Keith heaves above him, viscous strings dripping from his lips as he twitches and convulses.  
  
Lance can feel the bile rise up in his throat, tears stinging in the open cuts on his left cheek.   
He adjusts the rifle, closes his eyes.   
Shoots again.  
  
A wet, choked sound. The stench of rot and sulphur and death.   
Keith collapsing on top of him, forcing the breath out of Lance’s lungs as he crumbles and buries the paladin beneath his weight.  
  
Emptiness, void of anything but the familiar, disgusted squirming sensations deep in Lance’s guts.   
  
Then...  
  
Panic. Cold and stifling before it cracks and bursts and floods Lance’s body with a desperate heat.  
  
He gasps, cries, sobs. Fights against the pressure of Keith’s body that’s lying there motionless, lifeless, pressing him down into the soft ground.  
_You will die here after all_ , the panic whispers to him again in its low hiss and Lance grits his teeth against the thoughts forced upon him, thrashes against the limp body weighing him down.  
_He will bury you._  
  
Lance lets out a wet scream, struggles harder, shoves against Keith’s shoulders that fall right back against him, head lolling forward unsupported. Bulging pale eyes empty and unable to close.  
Lance retches before trying again.  
  
Finally he wiggles his chest out from underneath the monstrosity and flings the rifle away with a disgusted cry, fingers clawing at the wet earth, fighting to pull himself out every inch of the way.  
  
As soon as he’s free, after a long, desperate struggle, he curls up on his side, stomach twisting and turning, trying to empty itself, but all Lance chokes out is bitter bile that splatters against his armour and seeps into the ground The sharp stench is unable to cover up the smell of burnt and rotting flesh.   
  
He lies there for a long time, retching and sobbing and shaking, until there’s nothing left for him to heave up and his tears have run dry.  
  
Lance sits up slowly, head pounding and body shaking. He pointedly does not look back at Keith as he pushes himself to his knees and his hands come up to cradle his head between both palms.  
Sniffling pitifully he tries to open a connection.  
  
“Sh-shiro?”, he stutters, voice dry and cracking over the syllables. No answer, just faint static hissing into his left ear. The speaker on the right must have failed sometime during the fight. “Shiro … are you…”  
His throat closes up and Lance coughs, spits out. Tries again.  
  
“Shiro? Coran?” When there’s still no answer he closes the link and tries to reopen it with hasty, trembling fingers. “Allura? Any … anyone…?”   
There still doesn’t seem to be a connection to the castle so he tries to ping the yellow lion, then the green one. But neither Hunk nor Pidge answer him.  
  
“Fuck…”, he curses weakly, hoping that the problem is a broken communicator on his part and that nothing horrible happened on their end.   
After a few, flighty heartbeats of trying to shove down the panic that’s still simmering just under his skin Lance makes it to his feet, unsteady but standing. He still doesn’t look at Keith when he heads back towards the treeline.   
  
The world is spinning around him, gloomy lighting of the forest not helping his dizziness in the least as he stumbles through the underbrush.   
His toes catch on roots and more than once he almost falls over branches lying across his path but Lance presses on, mind still reeling and holding on for dear life to what he needs to do next. One step at a time. No matter how close he is to breaking down and losing the rest of his sanity.  
  
He needs to reach out to the others, needs them to get him off this moon as soon as possible. And if his com is broken he needs to go back and find Keith’s.   
  
Not like his teammate will need it any longer.  
  
The thought burns like dry ice in his mind, makes him wheeze a hysterical laugh that’s carrying a splitting headache in its wake.   
  
He lost so much blood already. It’s still seeping out of the wounds Keith has ripped into him, dripping down his face and gushing out of his neck where he presses a trembling hand to try and staunch the bleeding. It doesn’t help much but he doesn’t have a choice, can’t access the first aid kit stored inside the red lion.  
If she hadn’t opened up for him before she sure as hell won’t now. Not after watching him…  
  
A sniffle escapes Lance, vision blurring with more than fatigue as the tears start to well up again. Shit.  
  
He can’t break down yet, angrily rubs at his eyes with his free hand. Not yet. Not as long as he’s still on this cursed moon. Not as long as his team doesn’t know what happened here. Until then he has to hold on to clarity even if it is by the skin of his teeth.  
Lance swallows around the lump in his throat and presses on.   
  
He almost reached the second factory building, only has a little further to go, a little longer to press on, when the static in his left ear picks back up.   
It’s faint at first but quickly grows louder, more irritating, and Lance is so close to yanking his helmet off when he hears it. A voice between the shrill white noise, distorted but definitely calling out for him.  
  
“-ance! Lance! Can ... hear me?”  
“Shiro?”, he calls back, a breathy sob escaping him as he stumbles to a halt, free hand coming up to press against the side of his helmet. Trying desperately to make out more of the voice.  
“Shiro, that you?”  
  
“Yes … -e … your stat-?”  
“Fuck, Keith, he’s…” Lance tries to say it, really does. But his throat closes up around the horrible truth and so he just screws his eyes shut and grits his teeth through the pain throbbing in his chest.  
“I n-need … I need an extraction. You hear me? Get me out of here!”  
  
“We … our wa- … be ... -oon. Keep … -ance. Yes? ... -n you…”  
  
“Shiro? You’re … you’re breaking up, I can’t…”  
He better have said they were on their way or Lance would end up losing his damn mind after all.   
The connection is dissolving further, the snippets of Shiro’s voice becoming more quiet, melting into the background hiss of the busted com.  
  
But shortly before he’s gone completely Lance swears he can hear a broken up string of sounds that makes his blood run cold.  
  
“-eith … movi-”  
  
No. No, no, no. That can’t be.  
Lance shot Keith. He shot him straight through the chest. Twice. Nobody should get back on their feet after that, it’s impossible.  
  
But then again … Lance has seen far stranger things happen today. Who knew how deep the changes Keith had undergone really were? Maybe he could regenerate his heart. Maybe he didn’t even have a heart anymore.  
  
Breaking himself out of his stupor Lance extends his hand, turns his wrist. He’s still shaking when he opens the map.  
The projection flickers to life, as unstable as Lance feels, fuzzy around the edges and proportions slightly distorted.   
But it’s still enough for Lance to compare his own blue dot to the red one representing Keith. It’s still enough to make out that the red dot is closing in on him. Again.  
Shit.  
  
On instinct alone Lance reaches for his bayard but his fingers close around thin air. Right. He left the rifle on the clearing, next to Keith’s supposed corpse. What a brilliant and tactically sound decision.   
Lance would curse himself more if his world wasn’t tilting dangerously at the moment.  
  
Instead he pulls himself back together, forces his frantic, dissolving thoughts to work with him.   
Just a bit longer. Just until help arrives or he dies a horrible, bloody death by his own boyfriend’s hand.   
  
Lance whimpers and presses on, limping forward. He knows very well that he can’t run and even if he could, there’s nowhere to run to. Nowhere to hide.   
He’s trapped here without his lion or so much as a weapon, bleeding profusely and a deadly predator on his heels.  
Prospects are … suboptimal.  
  
He’s so close to just falling to his knees and waiting for fate to catch up to him when he sees the charred concrete walls of the second ruin.  
  
An idea comes to life, a plan falling together in his mind. It’s a desperate attempt at best but anything is better than waiting for death.   
  
And so Lance keeps limping.  
  
The insides of the factory ruins feel darker and colder but maybe that’s just the blood loss. Lance avoids the stairwell they’d used on their visit earlier, isn’t sure he’d be able to scale the wall this time around, and makes his way toward the other side of the building.   
  
Here it opens up to what must have been the production hall ages ago, glass roof shattered and caved in. Now there’s purple, pulsing vines winding their way into the ruins.   
Lance can’t use it for his plan though, too open, too wide. He presses on. Slowly makes his way across rubble and debris until he rounds a few corners and finds himself in a narrow, partly collapsed hallway that seems to circle the production hall.  
  
There’s smaller rooms to one side, maybe former offices.   
Lance still contemplates them, one wet hand resting against the naked wall to steady himself, when a shriek tears through the absolute stillness of the air, making him freeze right where he is.   
  
It sounds close, loud and piercing and completely furious.   
Not like Keith is in the ruins just yet but he sure is close, searching, _hunting_ , and it won’t take him long to follow the bloody trail Lance must have left.   
  
Lance closes his eyes for a second, wants to take a shuddery breath but then the ground is tilting underneath him and the next thing he knows he’s on all fours, pain pounding through his head, throbbing in his wounds, the charred hallway spinning around him as he tries to regain focus.   
This isn’t ideal. He needs Keith to find him differently, needs more time to set up another angle. Isn’t even sure if there’s … but then he already hears it.  
  
The steady sound of beating wings coming from the collapsed hall, a rustle of leaves as if they were moving in a cool summer’s breeze, and then the dull thumping sound of feet coming to the ground a little too harshly.   
  
The breath catches in Lance’s throat as he bites down on his bottom lip to stave off a scared whimper. He ducks behind a pile of rubble as best he can, limbs heavy and uncooperative as he tries to pull his knees to his chest and make himself as small as possible.  
  
Keith is right behind the wall in his back, there’s a passage into the hallway just around the corner.  
  
Lance releases a silent breath, strains his ears.   
  
There’s shuffling coming from the production hall, branches snagging and stones skittering as Keith moves around, huffing, sniffing.   
He’ll find Lance sooner or later.   
But if he takes much longer Lance won’t be able to put up much of a fight anymore, can already feel unconsciousness yanking at the corners of his mind.   
He has a few minutes tops before he blacks out and is left utterly defenseless.   
  
Better end it. Here and now.  
  
Lance grabs the next best weapon, a stone he finds close to his dusty, blood-splattered foot. It has jagged edges and a sharp, pointed tip. If nothing else he can stick it into one of those bulging eyes while Keith rips out his intestines.  
  
Biting back a pained noise Lance pushes away from the ground, sliding up the wall. The ground is still unsteady, wobbling beneath his feet, but Lance manages to stay upright until it stops swaying.   
He steps away from the wall and faces the bend in the hallway even if it takes everything out of him. But if he’s about to meet his end he won’t do it cowering.  
  
Lance swallows, takes a breath, already opens his mouth when his eyes catch on something further up the hall. A thin, lopsided smile stretches his lips, dried blood cracking open.  
Looks like his plan might just work out after all.  
  
“Hey!”, he shouts, voice croaking.”Hey darling!” The words are followed by a wheezing cough that makes the headache spark to life again with a vengeance and a stream of blood spills from between the fingers still pressed to his throat.  
  
Over in the production hall the shuffling comes to a stop as Keith grunts. For just a moment everything is still and silent. Then there’s the sound of claws scratching across concrete, heavy footfalls echoing through the wide, open room and then Lance can hear the predator enter the hallway.  
  
No matter how frantic the movements sound, Keith seems completely in control as he rounds the corner and his massive but terrifyingly graceful body comes to a stop when he spots Lance.   
  
It’s really him. Lance can feel his throat close up and can’t help the _relief_ that floods his chest right alongside the blind panic.  
  
It’s Keith. He’s still alive. Lance did not kill him. Even though the proof he tried is more than obvious.  
  
There’s a big hole in the remains of the black undersuit, right where Lance shot him twice. The skin below is an angry red, knotted and raw, still shifting and stitching itself back together as Keith stares him down.   
Behind him the wings are spreading, curling, shivering. Fully extended they seem to go beyond the narrow constriction of the hallway, breaching sturdy concrete before folding back in on themselves.  
  
Lance’s stomach drops when Keith lets out a deep, rumbling growl, spittle dripping from his teeth and leaving dark spots on the dusty ground.

He can’t stop now. He can’t freeze. The plan is already in motion.  
  
“Hey there, handsome”, Lance jokes but his voice is thin and close to breaking. The ground is starting to sway again.   
Not. Yet.  
  
He swings his right arm to the side, opening himself up to the monster crouching across from him. The sharp edges of the stone dig into his hand, even through the protective layer of the glove. Lance squeezes it harder.  
  
“Come on. Heel!”, he wheezes and paired with the wide movement it seems to finally set Keith off. Before Lance can blink Keith is sprinting down the hallway and as if on cue time starts to slow again.  
But maybe that’s still the blood loss.  
  
Lance can see the movement in Keith’s powerful muscles, the glint of every single razor sharp fang, every wrinkle and crease dug into pale skin by the aggressive snarl spreading across the grotesque features.   
He can see the dark hair, clumped together by drying blood and other fluids, the claws scratching across the ground, the shivering wings folding inward.  
The huge pile of rubble Keith is about to pass that’s propping up the crumbling ceiling of the hallway just so.  
  
Lance can feel the movement of his arm before he even intends it but the timing is spot on.   
He pulls back, feels the weight of the stone in his hand, so much heavier than just a second ago, and then his arm swings forward. His fingers loosen and he hurls the stone across the hallway with all the strength and accuracy he can still muster.  
  
It hits the explosive perfectly.   
A ball of flames and flying stone shards erupts across the hall, the immense pressure throwing Lance backwards before the heat rolls over him. The rumble of the ceiling collapsing is the last thing he notices before the darkness finally engulfs him. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take a look at the additional, gorgeous [fanart](http://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/post/171484405971/332018-fenfyre-for-a-different-breed-one%20) [zenthisoror](https://zenthisoror.tumblr.com/) created for this chapter!

There’s a distant, familiar hissing sound and the first conscious breath Lance takes is warm and humid, soothing the lingering burn in his lungs. A voice might say his name but he can’t be sure, his senses still dull and fuzzy as he slowly journeys back to wakefulness.   
  
Broad, warm hands cup his cheeks and the voice returns. It sounds soothing even though Lance still can’t make out the words.   
He lets himself drift a while longer in the pleasant warmth, the safe feeling of someone being there to watch over him lulling him in. The corners of his lips twitch upward. Maybe it’s his boyfriend here to fret over him, maybe it’s…  
  
Lance twitches awake with a pained gasp as the memories crash over him. Memories of Tiye and Keith acting strange, of his boyfriend turning into something monstrous and otherworldly to hunt him down, of the ruins and the explosion and…  
“ Keith!”, he chokes out, arms flailing and hitting something soft but unyielding right when his eyes fly open.

Hunk.

His best friend stares at him with deep concern, arms reaching out to steady Lance’s trembling, weak body.  
“Hey, buddy. It’s okay, it’s all gonna be…”, he tries with a calm, steady voice. But the reassuring smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There’s too much … guilt in them. Guilt and fear.  
  
“What, ah … Hunk, what … what happened, where’s … where’s Keith, what…”  
  
“Take a breath, alright? Let’s just … let’s just breathe for minute.” Strong hands grab his shoulders and Lance instinctively reaches up to grab Hunk’s forearms, letting his friend try and calm the bubbling panic rising up once more.   
He sucks in a deep breath when Hunk does, earning a slow, approving nod as he lets it out through his mouth.  
  
“Just like that, we’re gonna be fine. C’mon breathe with me.”   
It sounds a little bit like Hunk is trying to calm himself as much as he’s trying to calm Lance but after a few breaths Lance actually does feel a little better, even though the fear is still lurking in the back of his mind, has only been pushed away for the moment.   
  
Not on his way into a panic attack anymore Lance notices Pidge, Allura and Coran behind Hunk. A little further away there’s Shiro, arms crossed and shoulders hunched up defensively. A tight smile flickers across his face when his eyes meet Lance’s but it’s gone again just as quickly, gaze shifting away.  
  
Allura steps forward when Hunk steadies him enough that he can slowly step out of the pod. His legs feel weak and he’s grateful for the help, not above accepting Hunk’s arm wrapping around his waist to keep him from swaying.   
  
“How are you feeling, Lance?”, Allura asks with a smile but her voice is tight as she regards him. “Any lingering pains? Soreness?”  
He shakes his head before he can even think about the question.  
  
“No, I’m - oof!”  
The breath is forced out of his lungs when Pidge barrels into his chest, slim but surprisingly strong arms wrapping around him and squeezing tight.  
“Hey, what…”  
  
“Shut up!”, she snaps but her voice sounds suspiciously wet and trembles a little as she hides her face against his chest. “We thought … we thought you wouldn’t make it. We thought you’d…”  
She doesn’t finish the sentence and Lance can feel his stomach pull tight at the words, the shaky desperation in her voice. He wraps an arm around her slim shoulders, pulls her as close as he can and watches Hunk pat her tousled hair affectionately.  
  
“Wouldn’t make it? Come on, I’m Lancey-Lance. You didn’t think you’d get rid of me, did you?”   
The joke doesn’t feel as lighthearted as he wants it to but it’s the best he can manage right now. At least an attempt was made, even if it only gets him a shaky punch to the shoulder before she begins to sniffle and hugs him tight again.   
  
“Hey, it’s okay”, he soothes and feels the simmering panic recline even further as he gets to take care of someone else, he sways her carefully, left to right. “I’m here. I’m good.”  
After a few quiet moments she gives a nod but doesn’t let go. Lance hugs her even tighter.  
  
“You’ve been in a coma for the last fifteen quintants”, Allura explains, her hands clasped tightly in front of her body. “We tried to awaken you from stasis several times but … you weren’t ready.”   
  
For a long moment Lance just looks at her. Fifteen quintants. Holy shit. The longest they’d ever put one of them into a pod for healing had been about six quintants and that had been…  
Lance swallows. Now that he’s more awake a fear of even asking the question again makes his insides clench painfully. But he needs to know, he needs certainty.  
  
“Where is…”, his voice breaks pathetically halfways through the question but Allura seems to know what he’s asking, gives a slow nod.  
  
“We were able to extract Keith as well. He’s aboard the ship.”   
  
A tide of emotion rises up at her words, makes Lance’s insides prickle and floods his veins with icy heat.   
Keith is alive.   
He’s here, somewhere.   
They were able to save him.   
But it’s not just relief that fills him up at the thought. There’s still a flighty, panicked little thing quivering in his chest. It adds guilt into the whirling mix of confusion.  
  
“Though”, Allura continues carefully, “we had to put him in cryostasis.”  
  
The pang of relief he feels at those words only makes the guilt worse. If they couldn’t even start healing him in the time Lance spent in his pod there’s a good chance they might not … no.   
  
No, he can’t think of that. Pessimism never helped them before and it looks like his team needs some cheering up. He can’t falter as long as they do.   
But he still needs to know. He needs to…  
  
“Can I see him?”  
  
Allura and Coran exchange a long, meaningful look and at the end Coran sighs quietly, gives a minute shake of his head.  
“I would not exactly advise it but … it would be cruel to deny you so yes, of course you can see him. Let me just run a few tests on you first? We want to make sure you really are healed up and ready.”  
  
Because that worked so well last time, Lance doesn’t say.   
Instead he swallows the bitter sarcasm and nods once before he starts peeling away from Pidge and Hunk.  
  
“Come on”, he smiles when Pidge doesn’t budge. “You wanna know I’m fine? Let the man work…”  
When she finally lets go of him her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy. He pretends not to notice.

~

Coran decides to run every test in the book and then some, even takes special care to include an analysis of Lance’s genetic data which comes back negative. No alterations since the first time it had been recorded, no unusual or inhuman sequences, nothing.  
  
“It seems”, Coran mumbles after an eternity of silence, still studying the numerous graphs and charts strewn across the screens, “like physically you’re perfectly healthy. The pod worked as intended, no need to be concerned.”  
  
Lance can hear how he’s trying to assure himself as much as Lance, just like Hunk had earlier.   
This incident has his whole team shaken to the core, Lance can feel it. Coran’s insecurities running the easiest tests, double and triple-checking himself. Hunk trying so hard to be a pillar for him but being unable to hide his own concern. Pidge’s partly concealed break-down, the unobtrusive stumble in Allura’s poise.   
The way Shiro seemed scared to talk to him, to even get involved at all. 

It’s a disaster and there’s absolutely nothing Lance can do to help but crack a few light-hearted jokes.   
Maybe later, when he found his own footing again he can see how to build them up as well. But there’s things he needs to do first.  
  
“So I’m clear to…?”, he leaves the question unfinished and raises his eyebrows at Coran instead, staying seated on the examination table for now. The Altean turns to him and there’s something in those eyes that makes him look impossibly old and tired but it’s gone after Coran blinks.  
“Yes”, he nods, his voice still heavy. “I’ll take you to him.”  
  
They walk in silence, making their way deep into the bowels of the castleship.   
  
Lance has long become disoriented when they stop in front of a pair of wide, heavy doors. Coran opens a panel in the wall and presses his hand against it for a scan.  
“It’s just a safety measure”, he explains as he types in a security code as well. “In case we need to lock him down.”  
  
Lance swallows but finds himself nodding. If Keith still looks and behaves the way he had on Tiye they have to be able to contain him, paladin or not.   
  
The doors start to slide open with a heavy scraping sound that makes the hairs at the nape of Lance’s neck rise. His fingers twitch, his breath stutters. He still follows Coran into the hall.  
  
There’s a soft, blue glow coming from a tank at the other end of the room but Lance can barely make out the figure floating inside until the lights start to flicker on.  
  
It really is Keith. Just as monstrous as Lance remembers, the sight enough to make his stomach churn. The memory of bitter bile on his tongue.   
He can’t bring himself to step too close to the huge tank. Huge enough to even hold the massive wings still protruding from Keith’s bowed back.   
So instead Lance comes to a stop at what feels like a relatively safe distance and just looks for a while.  
  
Keith is naked and unconscious, his bulging eyes only covered halfway by his eyelids, jaw forced open by the sheer amount of fangs filling his mouth, limbs slack and floating in the liquid that’s suspending him.   
The long, sharply tipped tail is curled around his torso that’s still bearing the scars of the two shots he’d taken.   
The wings spread out wide and dark to both sides of his body, taking up most of the tank with their leathery surface. They’re eerily still like this but from time to time Lance still notes a shiver going through them. Like a hologram stabilizing.  
  
He looks unreal, like something from a movie or a horrid museum but Lance can’t look away. No matter how much it hurts.

“ How did you find us?”, Lance finally asks because he’s not ready for the question that’s been burning in his mind since Allura mentioned cryostasis.   
  
Coran comes to stand beside him, hands clasped in his back as he takes a slow breath.  
“ We jumped as close as we dared and then the other paladins took their lions to the moon. They shot a hole through the debris field just like you suggested. From there on it was only a matter of tracking down your biosignatures.”  
  
“ No Galra interfering?”, Lance asks but Coran only shakes his head.  
  
“ No, they were really lucky. Just collected you and Keith and then the black lion towed the red one back to the ship as well.”

For some reason the answer makes anger flare up in Lance’s stomach but he only clenches his jaw and doesn’t say anything else for a long while.   
  
“ He wouldn’t fit into one of the pods”, Coran explains eventually. “We had to improvise.”  
Lance can see that.  
“ Besides, a healing pod wouldn’t help him. It uses genetic information as a template to rebuild a body the way it’s supposed to be. And according to Keith’s genetic information he already is how he’s supposed to be…”  
  
Very slowly Lance takes a step forward before he falls still again, his eyes fixed on the body suspended in clear liquid. He can’t tear them away. When he speaks his voice is brittle, disbelieving still.   
  
“ How … how could something like this … be inside him this whole time?”  
  
Coran clears his throat and catches up with him, swaying back and forth on the tips of his toes. It’s a nervous movement, Lance notices.   
  
“ As I said, the sequences in question were present but inactive before. We reconstructed the incident on the Galra battleship and believe he might have come in contact with a virus or another aggressive substance that activated the sections in question. Maybe it was even injected, he was missing for long enough, according to Shiro.”

“ _We should have stayed together during the mission but I let them separate us. Whatever happens to him because of this … it’s on me.”_

Lance grits his teeth, unable to even imagine the kind of guilt weighing on Shiro’s shoulders. Of course he wouldn’t be able to even look at Lance after all that had happened. All that he blamed himself for.  
  
“You didn’t find any ... substance during your tests.”  
A quiet sigh.  
“No. Whatever it was it acted fast and was catabolised quickly enough as to not be detected during or after the healing period.”  
“And that was enough to cause … all of this?”  
The teeth, the tail, the claws. The goddamn wings. All because of some mysterious substance gone just quickly enough to stay undetected?  
  
“We suppose so, yes”, Coran nods and turns towards him a little more.   
Lance only sees it from the corner of his eyes, too preoccupied with studying the numerous fangs that had almost killed him not too long ago, defacing the mouth and lips that had kissed him vargas before the catastrophe. 

“ _I love you.”  
  
_ “You see, every genome carries the information to potentially form every cell in the body. But not all of that information is needed everywhere all the time. So in order to keep your lungs from accidentally growing a liver only small parts of certain chromosomes are active in a given location. The rest is inactivated via…”  
  
“Methylation and histone modification, I know”, Lance mumbles.   
He doesn’t exactly need a refresher on epigenetics but he knows Coran doesn’t want to belittle him. He just wants Lance to understand, which is fine enough. If only he’d get to the point.  
  
“Yes, yes exactly. Those are the methods commonly found in humans. Now, we knew Keith was part Galran but since he grew up on earth most of the chromosomes he inherited from his mother were inactivated in order to adapt to his environment. Of course not all of them, but enough for him to develop a purely human phenotype after his father.”  
Coran pauses to twirl his moustache with a gloved hand, seemingly deep in thought for a moment before he continues. Slower than before. More careful.  
  
“Whatever caused the activation of those genes, it activated all of them. At the same time. It’s not a surprise the pod couldn’t finish rebuilding him with no way to tell what to rebuild him as. There was no trade-off between contradicting information as there usually is in hybrids. Instead he was supposed to be everything, all at once. The pod could not handle it and … apparently his human body couldn’t either after trying to suppress it for a while.”  
  
“Everything?”, Lance asks, skin crawling the longer Coran speaks. “So those foreign sequences you found…”  
  
Coran nods and lets his hand fall to the side again, gaze wandering over to the tank.  
“It looks like Keith’s mother was anything but a pureblood. She gave him a very … interesting combination of genes. Some of species that haven’t been around for decapheebs. Chances are she didn’t even know about her heritage, just like Keith didn’t know about his.”  
  
Lance is only half listening by now, lower lip worried by his teeth as he takes another step forward.   
He’s almost close enough to touch the glass with his fingertips if he reached out far enough. Coran follows him quietly.  
  
“You see the ears, those are distinctly Galran”, the Altean explains, pointing vaguely towards the fuzzy, cat-like ears protruding from Keith’s bowed head. “But those teeth and the acid saliva, those are commonly found in Omy, a reclusive race of predators out on Fix Primeor. Then there’s the bulging eyes, usually a trait shared by a group of prey species. These seem to be Zrehzian, which are…”  
  
“Coran”, Lance interrupts, fights back the hot anger flaring up as Coran points at Keith like he’s an especially interesting exhibit worth studying closely.   
It’s hard to swallow the rage when there’s suddenly _so much_ of it but Lance grits his teeth through it, screws his eyes shut until it’s under control and he can ask the one question that was burning on his tongue this whole time:  
“Can you fix him?”  
  
The heavy silence that follows is answer enough. Lance doesn’t need the soft inhale, the short stutter, he already knows what’s coming.  
“W-well, not yet. As I said, healing pods won’t help us right now, we’ll have to find a way to suppress the conflicting sequences first. But as soon as we do, and believe me, we are looking hard, there should be a possibility for progress.”  
  
A possibility. For progress.   
  
The warm hand coming to rest on his shoulder is not completely unwelcome so Lance doesn’t shake it off.   
He wants the rage back, wants to scoff and curse at _the possibility for progress_. But he can’t. There’s no rage, no betrayal, no fear. Just this deep, dark pit slowly opening up inside him.   
  
“We are searching for a way”, Coran assures him, squeezes his shoulder lightly. “And we won’t stop until we can help him. You have my word.”  
Lance wants to feel comforted by that, wants to trust and smile weakly at Coran, thank him for taking the time to explain what happened.   
He can’t.  
  
Instead he takes a step forward and to the side, effectively escaping the hand on his shoulder and coming to stand right in front of the tank. He looks up at Keith’s still face and feels the darkness inside his guts squirm.  
  
“Can I have a minute?”, he asks and can feel Coran falter but in the end the Altean gives a warm hum.  
“Of course, my boy. I will wait right outside. Join me when you’re ready.”  
  
Lance stays still, listens to the rustle of Coran’s clothes as he turns around, the quiet steps leaving the hall, the heavy scrape of the doors closing.   
As soon as they clank shut and a hushed silence falls over the room Lance feels the bottom drop out from his world, the deep, dark hole bubbling over.   
  
He can’t hold it together anymore, he can’t. He held it together all the way back on Tiye, for all this time, held it together earlier for his team and just now in front of Coran but the exhaustion is catching up, the fear and the guilt, the bone-chilling despair making his body shake once again.  
  
Lance’s hands come up to press against the smooth glass, head tipped back just slightly so he can look at Keith’s grotesque, impassive face.   
He remembers the growling and snarling, the steaming spittle and the blood, god, the blood, _his_ blood, __their blood…  
  
Instead of recoiling and jumping back from the tank like some primal, panicked part of him wants to, Lance lets his head dip forward instead, pressing his forehead against the cool surface.   
  
“I’m sorry”, he breathes, fogging up the glass. His fingers slide through the condensation. “I’m so … so sorry, I…”  
  
This time when he feels the sting in the corners of his eyes Lance allows it, welcomes it, even.   
He lets his vision go blurry until the tears spill over and track wet paths down his cheeks before they drip from his chin.  
  
“I, I couldn’t … I…” His voice becomes thicker and more slurred the more tears drip from his lashes, his nose slowly clogging up.  
  
When his knees start trembling too hard to hold him up any longer Lance lets himself slide down the tank and crumbles at the pedestal, hands still pressed against the glass.   
Here he lets himself shake apart, lets himself be broken down by guilt and shame and despair until there’s nothing left but a quivering shell too unstable to hold all the whirling emotions inside.  
  
A part of him is still terrified and frozen in fear, sees Keith awaken and break out of the tank to wreak havoc on the castleship and hunt them down one by one.   
  
Another part thinks maybe that’s what they deserve for failing him.   
  
But nothing happens for the whole eternity that Lance lies shaking on the ground, sobbing and wheezing and choking on apologies.  
Keith just floats, motionless, lifeless, suspended in time and space. His eyes calm and still as they stare down at the broken boy they can’t see. 

  
  
The End 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr: [fenfyre](https://fenfyre.tumblr.com/)


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